RONMAN THE BARBARIAN!
by Mr. Wizard
Summary: He blazed across a savage world, leaving destruction and delight in his wake. It is I, his chronicler, who alone call tell thee of his saga, let me give credit where credit is due.
1. Chapter 1

RONMAN THE BARBARIAN!

**Know oh, Prince that between the times the oceans drank Boulder and the rise of the sons of Denver (Bob and John), there was an age undreamed of. An age where shining kingdoms lay scattered across the Earth like so many shining scattered things. Uppertonia with its golden splendor. Lowertonia and its grim savagery. The mighty Go City of legend, home of honorable and fractious warriors. Ancient and decadent Rhodigan. Above them all stood mighty Middletonia; with its purple-clad legions, central location and a really good school system.**

**Hither came Ronman the Barbarian, sword in hand. A warrior, a thief, a lover and a hero. A man of gigantic appetites and vendettas, to trip over the jeweled crowns of the Earth…did I forget to mention he was clumsy? Anyhoo, our story begins… **

Prologue: The Prophet G

Over its many millennia of existence the land of Actuaria has never been conquered. Many say it is due to its soaring snow-capped mountains and deep forests. Others credit its mighty-thewed warriors. Some among the civilized lands scoff and say it is because its only treasures are steel and blood, both of which are readily purchased.

All of these are partially right; and all are wrong. The land of Actuaria is wild: a land of fogs and mists. A land of sudden avalanches along the slick mountain trails. A land where the cries of wild animals fill the night. It is a land which makes its people strong, fearless and exceedingly good at accessing risks. Do I take the high road or the low road? Would I make it to the Great Inn before the coming blizzard freezes me solid? Where is the weakness in the enemy's lines? The mighty arms and strong steel of Actuaria are rightly feared, but above all it is the calculating eyes of its people that give would-be conquerors pause.

Among the most feared of all the Actuarian leaders was the Chief of the Stoppable Clan, Dean. Of the Actuarians, he was the most calculating. The most muscle-bound warrior eagerly followed this short, stoop-shouldered man who had at the last gathering of the Tribes been awarded the title Actuarian of the Year. But at the moment his eyes were troubled. He called out to the source of his concern

"Ronman, come here my son."

"Coming, Dad!" A young man of blond hair and slight build came running through the woods. He moved with remarkable speed. His father smiled at his swiftness, a smile which faded when Ronman tripped on a fallen log. The boy rolled down the snow-covered hill. Finally he came to a stop before his father. When he rose he began to beat the snow off of his clothes and his leather breeches fell down around his ankles.

"Oh, man!"

"Son," Dean began as Ronman pulled up his breeches. "The time has come. Your mother and I think we have a solution for your breeches problem."

"Really? That would be great!" The young man's face grew lined with concern. "It isn't a kilt, is it? I know Killigan the Blusterous wears one but…"

"Relax, son." Dean smiled. He surpassed a sigh as he looked upon his son's face. It was a fair and pleasant face with freckles and soft brown eyes. _Eyes utterly lacking in calculation. How will he…no, it's time. _ "Come with me and you'll see."

Ronman followed his father to the forge where his mother made the finest weapons in all of Actuaria. She looked up from the anvil on which she was shaping a dagger blade. From time to time she placed it back into the fire. The flames were fanned by a great bellows. Ronman's baby sister Hana giggled with glee as she jumped up and down upon them.

"Ronman you're here." Barbara smiled, setting her work aside. "We've worked out a solution to your problem." She walked over to a chest. "It took a lot of doing. I worked with the village leather worker, Dan Tanner, and had Shaman Katz provide charms and spells. Hopefully this will do the trick." When she turned around she held what looked like a strap of leather, one side covered with symbols.

"What is that, Mom? And what is that metal contraption on the one end?"

"Dan Tanner called it a belt." She nodded at Ronman's blank expression. "Stupid name, I know, but it's mostly his work. This end is a buckle, you put the strap through it…"

Ronman adjusted the belt around his waist. "Hey, great idea, Mom!"

"Now, there are a few more things we want to give you." Dean drew away a pile of furs to produce a sword in its sheath. Ronman's barbarian blood sang in his ears as he drew forth the blade. He admired the sharp edges, the runes of maiming. The pommel was in the form of the tribal totem: the Fearless Ferret.

"Thanks, Mom, Dad!" Ronman swung the sword with a mighty laugh. He brought it across is body and started a return stroke. Barbara gasped as the blade flickered toward her. The anvil blocked her retreat. Only her husband's quick dive with a shield prevented her from being decapitated.

"Sorry, Mom, my bad."

"Son." His mother sighed. "You must be wondering why we are giving you your sword now."

"Is it my birthday?" Ronman's face brightened. "I thought that was next month."

His father joined in the conversation. "No, it's not that."

"It's a reward for good behavior? I've observed the laws of our clan and our great god Shrom."

"No," his mother answered, "it's…"

"To help me forget that I didn't make the clan axe throwing team? Hey, it's not my fault that only Ruthless is willing to be my shield catcher. The judges say the catchers have to be human, or at least man-sized. It's not fair!"

"NO! RON, YOU'RE GOING TO SEE THE WORLD!"

Ronman looked at his parents in confusion. "Now? In the dead of winter? Don't the young of the clan leave for the southern lands in the spring?"

"Yes, but the elders felt you've earned a head start." Dean replied.

"When did they decide that?"

Dean shrugged. "At the Fall Council."

"And why didn't you tell me?" Ron demanded.

"Son, this is our way of telling you." Barbara said gently. She uncovered another pile of furs. "I've made you this lovely shield, a pair of throwing axes, and a horned helmet. And here are furs and enough food to get you to the south. You can steal all you can eat there."

The pile of goods mollified Ronman somewhat. "But what about Ruthless?"

Dean put a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "He's waiting for you at his cave. He thinks you two will make a killing since you're going south so early."

"Do you really think so?" Ronman looked into his father's eyes. "I mean, I know some people say I'm no barbarian. That I'm too soft, too even-tempered…"

Dean had an answer. "Son, the question is not if you're a barbarian, but what kind of barbarian are you? I've seen a lot of warriors and conquerors, but none of them have your potential for destruction."

"Really?"

"I'm sure of it." His father replied. "And if you don't believe me, just ask around the village."

"I don't have to." Came Ronman's reply. "I've heard them: they call me a disaster, a plague, even a buffoon! That's one of the vast storms in the south, right?"

"Uh, right." Barbara recovered. "Now, let's get you loaded up and on your way. There's plenty of daylight left."

"But, but the Festival is tomorrow." Ronman sputtered. "I've been practicing all winter."

"Time is of the essence." Dean hurriedly said as he put Ronman's backpack on his shoulders. "The sooner you set off, the better your chances of striking it rich."

They packed him up quickly. Soon he kissed his mother and sister goodbye and embraced his father. "Good-bye, Dad."

"Good-bye, son. Maybe I'll see you soon."

"But I'm seeking adventure in distant lands."

"Son, I'm a mercenary. I can work anywhere."

Ronman rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I forgot. Bye, everybody!"

"Good-bye!" His family waved until he disappeared into the woods. Minutes later men from the village and tribal council emerged from the nearby hills.

"Is he gone?" A silver haired chief asked.

"Yes, Chief North." Barbara snapped. "Are you happy?"

"We are." He answered. "Please don't take it the wrong way. We all like Ronman; he's a fine boy who, if he survives, will make a fine barbarian. But, come on Dean, you know the odds! If he stayed and took part in the Fire Juggling Festival tomorrow, there's a ninety-eight percent chance he'd burn the whole village to the ground."

Dean's temper did not cool. "Perhaps it would be wiser if we gave up that idiotic festival."

"Don't say such a thing." Another elder hissed. "Great Shrom may hear and be angered."

Barbara glared at the man. Actuarian women bowed to no man. "Why? Shrom isn't a fire god. For all we know, a torch was what put his eye out."

"Look, we're all upset." A warrior said in a placating voice. "My son, Felix will be very put out over this. He planned to make Ronman his plunder buddy. Let's just try to put this all behind us and wish the son of Dean and Barbara luck."

"Indeed," intoned Chief North. "May your son prove as destructive to others as he has been to us."

RB

Ronman ran quickly and quietly through the brooding woods. Soon he reached the slopes of Mt. Hissensteam. He picked his way past the hot pools to the cave where his former pet sought warmth from Actuaria's bitter winters.

"Ruthless, are you there, buddy?"

From deep within the cave came a bass voice. "Coming." A figure emerged from shrouds of steam. The small pink head rested on broad shoulders. Beady black eyes hinted of a mind every bit as powerful as the muscular body. While he was scarcely half the height of Ronman, no one in his right mind would mock a Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat.

"Welcome, Ronman." Ruthless smiled with incisors which could serve as a weapon every bit as deadly as the two-handed sword on his back. "I was just packing some cookies for our journey south. Would you care for some?"

"Sure thing, dangerous dude!" The boy followed Ruthless into his cave. A backpack lay ready and waiting. A sack was still open, waiting for the cookies cooling on a rock.

"Just help yourself to the ones on the rock." Ruthless said cheerfully, his cuirass of metal hoops clanked as he scurried about. Ronman settled on a rock with a handful of cookies. He chewed happily.

"Delish!"

"I thought you'd like them. There's nothing like a cookie to keep you warm. Well, there is something that rhymes with cookie, but your parents warned me about my language." Ruthless held up two furs. "Which do you think: mountain lion or snow leopard?"

"Definitely the snow leopard; its silver tones go so well with your blued armor."

"That's what I thought." Ronman's not-so-little-buddy cast aside the one fur and donned the other. The paws scooped up the remaining cookies and he was ready to go.

"Get up, Ronman, adventure, wealth and slaughter await!"

RB

They left the cave and ran through the forest. Leagues passed beneath their swift feet. Erelong they reached a slope, its stones covered with runes. They marked the end of the tribe's lands.

"We must be careful, Ronman." Ruthless said.

"Why? The Seeing Clawers are no enemy of the Fearless Ferrets."

"That matters not." The NSTMR replied. "What you must guard is your dignity. You are now a warrior of the Fearless Ferret. You represent your tribe wherever you go. How you act affects how our fellows are treated by outsiders…"

Ronman listened closely to his friend. He paid so much attention that he did not see the patch of ice on the trail. His swift feet flew out from under him and he went over the side of the hill. The shield fell off of his shoulder and he landed on it. Down the slope he slid. The initial shock was replaced by elation as he flew past trees on his improvised sled.

"By Shrom, this is badical!"

He slowed as the ground leveled off. He could make out a dark form against the snow in the gathering dusk. It was a hide tent. The shield came to a halt before its opening.

Ronman watched as the flap opened and a figure emerged. The polar bear robe stood out in stark contrast to the tent's dark hides. It was a girl. A pale hand was at her throat just below her dainty chin. The rest of her face was just as beautiful, framed with cascading golden hair. Blue eyes sparkled as they recognized the boy.

"Ronman, what a pleasant surprise! We were on our way to your village for the Festival. You aren't staying for it?"

"Hi, Tara of the Clawers." Ronman stood up and brushed the snow off his clothes. "Hey, what do you know? The belt works!"

"Belt?" Tara inclined her head slightly, lips moist and parted. "That is what encircles your waist?"

"Yep. Mom and village leather worker made it for me. It keeps my breeches up."

The girl could not keep the anxiety out of her voice. "Forever?"

"No, that would be bad." Ronman undid the buckle. "You see, you just do this and yep…they fall down."

"Oh, Ronman, it's been too long." Tara laughed. "I'm glad we live on the borders of our tribes where we could get to know each other. My parents' tent is down the way…just out of ear shot. I am the advance watch for the clan."

He could see the tip of a bow peeking from beneath her robe. "Er, I am a friend, right?"

"Indeed." Tara's eyes gleamed. "And as a friend I offer you food and fire. Do you not wish to warm yourself by my fire?"

"I am kind of cold." Ronman looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Ruthless over here!"

"Ruthless?" The blond girl asked, her brows knitting.

The boy smiled. "You remember Ruthless, my old pet? He's accompanying me to the south. Hey, Ruthless buddy, it's Tara."

Ruthless made his way through the trees, having taken the more conventional route. An enormous backpack rested upon his brawny shoulders. Instead of a walking stick he used a harpoon.

"Greetings, Tara of the Seeing Clawers."

"Welcome, Ruthless friend of Ronman." A hint of resignation marred Tara's greeting.

Ronman did not notice her tone. "Hey, Ruthless, are we lucky! Tara's invited us to share her tent tonight."

Tara's eyes were a mixture of plea and threat as she looked at Ruthless. The NSTMR gave her a slight wink.

"Actually, Ronman, the sun has just set. I believe I'll put up our tent over that way." He pointed. "Then I think I'll go kill something."

"Suit yourself." The boy shrugged. "We'll be in here thinking about you."

"Oh, I doubt that." Ruthless muttered as he walked around the bend.

RB

After setting his pack and fur cloak aside Ronman gazed at the tent interior. Tara's tent was as soft and light on the inside as it was dark and rough on the outside. Meat cooked on a small brazier in the center of the tent. Rich furs were piled upon the ground.

"Sit by the fire while I pour us some mead." Tara let go of her fur robe. She wore thigh high boots, a long sleeved blouse of blue trimmed with silver and a long matching loin cloth.

_I didn't think it was that cold in here. _Ronman thought when Tara turned to hand him a drinking horn.

"Drink." Tara touched her horn to his. "To friends and allies. May we always…complete each other."

"Yeah, what you said."

Next they tore into the meat with daggers and teeth. There was flat bread and dried apples as well. When they were sated, they cleaned their hands with the earth around the brazier, a tribute to Shrom.

"I'm so glad I found you, Ronman." Tara touched his arm. "I would have been so sad if you had left before I saw you. If that had happened I would not have been able to give you your gift."

"Thanks, Tara. It tanks that I won't be here for my birthday. My parents told me to steal something nice that day."

"It's not a birthday gift." Tara shifted as she sat beside him. "My brother told me that in the southern lands, when a warrior goes on quest or to war, that it customary for a girl to give him what they call a favor. It's an article of clothing to remember her by."

She extended her hand to him. "Here is your favor, Ronman."

"Badical!" the barbarian boy looked intently at the cloth in his hand. "Uh, Tara, won't you be cold without your loin cloth?"

"Not if you help keep me warm." She put a long leg across Ronman's chest and he fell back with her astride him. Her fierce kisses covered his face and neck as she undid his fur vest. It flew against the tent wall, followed by her blouse.

"Hey! Hey! HEY!" Ronman shouted, trying to sit up under the fair beauty.

"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously. "Don't you like me?"

"Yes, I like you. But this just isn't right." He tried to see beyond the bosom heaving in his face. "Dad says that the first time for a girl is special. It has to be done right. Not like this."

"Oh, I see." Tara said quietly. She laid a golden tress in either of Ronman's large hands. Closing her eyes, she made a half-hearted effort to pull away. All the while her hands feverishly undid his breeches and loin cloth.

"Please no, warrior! I am but a pure and timorous maiden. Be gentle!" She opened her eyes. "Was that right?"

"That works."

They entwined on the furs, rolling about with wild abandon. Ere long Ronman was on top of the blond beauty, making his first conquest. Tara's eyes widened as his impassioned invasion began.

"M-Mother said you would pass by here tonight."

"Really? How did she know? Did she talk with my Mom?"

"No, silly." Tara closed her eyes. Sweat glistened on her nubile body. "Certain…women in my clan are seeeers." She gasped and opened her eyes. "A girl does not know if she has the gift until her, her first tiiiiime.

"And she cannot lie with just any boy. It has to be a special boy. He must be an outlander she has known her entire life. Someone she calls f-f-f-friend. And there are signs."

She reached down to her sides and put her hands upon his. "He must have large, strong hands." From there she grabbed his ears and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. "And prominent ears. Both indicate what is needed to unlock the Seat of Prophecy!"

"Seat of Prophet G? I never heard of it" Ronman grunted, rather pleased that he had been able to pay attention to anything she had said.

"Not G…" Tara raised her pelvis under her lover's. "It's…it's…"

And the key touched the lock.

The blond girl's face was alight with joy. "Yes! Yes! Oh Great Shrom YES!"

She opened her eyes to see the roof of the tent dissolve. In place of smoke stained furs shone a silver white light. Bathed in its glow were the spirits of her ancestresses. They called to her.

"Welcome, fellow Seer!"

"Behold! Past, Present, and Future! All are yours to know!"

"You've got a good one there, sweetie. Give your hips a little wiggle and bring it on home."

Tara turned glowing silver eyes to Ronman. Her voice was distant. "Many will fall before your sword. You will defeat the living and the dead. Men, women and beasts will fear you and love you! Your conquests will be legendary. You will draw fire…red fire to you! Darkness will also seek you out. Fire and Darkness! Which will you choose? Which will choose you?"

Her last words broke through to him, if vaguely. "Huh…wha…did…you say?"

"Nothing, dear." She whispered to him, wiggling her hips. His cry pierced the night.

"ABOOYAH!"

A distance away Ruthless sat turning a hunk of his kill on a spit over a roaring fire. "I thought I made camp out of earshot."

RB

Being young and new to coupling, Tara and Ronman went slowly, celebrating their passion only three more times. Spent at last, they fell asleep in each others strong arms. Shortly before dawn, Tara left the tent, wearing only her boots, robe, and a wide grin.

Sunlight spilled into the tent. Ronman stirred into wakefulness. He ate the smoked venison left by Tara, dressed and went out to face the new day.

"Greetings, Ronman." Ruthless stood outside.

"Oh, hey, Ruthless. Have you seen Tara?"

"No, but her trail leads toward her clan's encampment. It's on our way."

Ronman fell in with his friend. "You had a good night of hunting?"

"I was very successful. If last night was a sign; we will have fresh meat all the way to the civilized lands. I take it you passed the night pleasantly?"

"It was all right…who am I kidding? It was GREAT! I could have done that all night!"

"From the sounds of it you did." Ruthless muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Now, her clan is camped just around the bend."

"THERE HE IS!"

Before Ronman or Ruthless could reach their hilts a cheer went up. The Seeing Clawers lined either side of the trail, standing before their tents. They waved at their passing neighbors. Some girls stared enviously at the favor about Ronman's neck.

Its giver waited with her family at the last tent. Ronman stopped before them. Tara's father took the boy's hands into his own, shaking them vigoursly.

"Thank you, boy! Welcome to the family!"

"It was my pleasure…I mean honor! It was my honor!" Ronman flinched, closing his eyes against the coming blow.

"You better believe it was both!" The giant chief laughed. He slapped Ronman on the back, driving him face-first into the snow with his good humor. "Let me help you up, son."

Tara's mother was next. "Thank you for helping our daughter. I knew you could."

"You're welcome. Mom and Dad always taught me to help any fellow Actuarian. The rest of the world…"

"Can go burn!" the older woman cackled. "I've always loved that joke."

After a swarm of brothers and sisters it was Tara's turn. She kicked up her heel as she kissed him. The little show that made caused several of the young men to curse the provision regarding Prophecy and outsiders.

"Wish I could stay, Tara, but there's a world out there for the taking."

"Don't worry." She smiled. "Just be back in two years, nine months, a week and two days."

"Uh, okay. Come on, Ruthless, it's off to glory!"

Ronman gave Tara another kiss and then turned back to the road. She waved until he was out of sight. Her mother came up beside her.

"I heard you, are you…"

Tara turned and grasped her mother's hands. "A girl! Blond hair, hazel eyes."

The older woman lifted her hands toward the heavens. "Shrom be praised!"

RB

"I wonder what Tara meant by that last bit. There aren't any festivals at that date." Ronman shook his head as he and Ruthless trotted along. Their barbarian hardiness allowed them to carry on a conversation while setting a pace no civilized man could even dream of attaining, with or without speech.

"Well, I know her clan has a ritual where outlanders acknowledge their siring a woman's child. It takes place on the child's second birthday."

"But she said two years, nine months, a week and three days."

"Two days. You don't want to be late for this party: they'll come looking for you." Ruthless did a double take. "Wait a minute; Ronman, don't you know where babies come from?"

"Sure. You sack a city, pick an orphan out of the ashes and bring it home. That's how we got Hana."

"True." Ruthless sighed. "Fine. Forget it." He changed the topic. "We should make good time with this weather. With Shrom's grace we may reach the edge of the Seeing Clawers' lands today."

"And why are they called the Seeing Clawers? I mean, Tara told me about the Prophet G, but she never said anything about clawing. They use swords and axes just like we do."

"I have no idea." Ruthless lied. "Ronman, remind me to put some salve on your neck when we stop for lunch."

"Thanks, little dude. And could you put some on my shoulders also? This pack must be chafing me."

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

Shrom forgive me, but this cursed plot bunny just would not go away!


	2. The Bling in the Crypt

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: CajunBear73, Isamu, screaming phoenix, Soth11, bigherb81, spectre666, MrDrP, Drakonis Aurous, aedan cameron, dreams-walker, RedneckGeek, Michael Howard, BlueEyedBrigadier, King in Yellow, SolarinStudio, Sentinel103, Rive Link Reue and all the other readers, hope you're laughing.

**In the Year of Fire and Darkness in the land of Actuaria, Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara went forth to prove his manhood. Before the next dawn he had completed his first conquest (credit Tara of the Seeing Clawers with the assist, okay, it was her idea but our boy came through, eh? eh?). Now he leaves the land of his birth, with only his old pet Ruthless and a bit of steel for company.**

Chapter 1. The Bling in the Crypt

The weather held for the day and the fast journeying comrades quickly passed through the land of the Seeing Clawers. Boundary stones glowed red in the setting sun. Their runes brought Ronman up short.

"Oh, man, this tanks!"

Ruthless looked at Ronman in confusion. "What's the problem?"

"It's the sign of the Seanites!" The boy's face paled. He trembled. "I didn't think we'd get anywhere near their territory."

The NSTMR tried to comfort his friend. "But that was years ago. And they're related, albeit distantly."

"That's what makes them so evil! Don't you remember? The fur wedgies? The stolen mead money? Using me for axe throwing practice?" Ronman dropped to his knees; from there he slumped onto his side, sucking a thumb.

"Ronman, snap out of it! You were young. It was a wedding; there are supposed to be high jinx. It's time to move on…"

A totem caught Ruthless' eye. The Fire Iguana seemed to lick its lips and leer hungrily at him. Suddenly he remembered dangling from a Seanite's fingers as a forked tongue flicked at his heels. "Smoky, it's time for your wedding feast!"

Ruthless joined Ronman on the ground, sucking a thumb of his own. They lay there for some time. Fortunately, you can't keep a good Actuarian down, whether he is human or rodent. "There is an alternate route." Ruthless said.

"Really? Where?" Ronman took his thumb out of his mouth long enough to ask.

"If we go east, skirting the Seanite border, we'll reach the land of Hyperbolia."

"Never heard of it. Who lives there?"

"Some clans of wild savages, along with huge beasts. Not much else is known. Few travel there and even fewer return. Even the Seanites avoid it."

The prospect of savages and beasts paled before the vision of the redheaded evil that lay before him. Ronman stood up with purpose.

"Then east it is! Let's get some sleep first, a league or two back there, deeper in Seeing Clawer territory."

RB

It took most of the day to reach the easternmost border of the Seanites. One glance and the pair knew they were not in Actuaria any more.

Actuaria had fog, but nothing like the thick, clingy mists they now walked through. Sometimes one of them would gasp and strike out with a weapon at what seemed to the other to be an insubstantial tendril of vapor. Neither teased the other for their action.

Both were used to walking through the forest primeval, but the trees of Actuaria were both tall and straight. Not only did the Hyperbolian trees dwarf the ones they remembered, they did so while twisting and curling in strange ways.

"The Giants of Chaos must look like this." Ruthless whispered as they passed a great bole whose two lowest branches seemed to hang down like the arms of some impossibly large ape. Boy and NSTMR tried not to run. It was too foggy to do so safely.

Ronman looked from side to side, his mighty right hand resting on the head of a throwing axe. "We've seen the fog, and these trees are freaking me out! Where are the wild beasts?"

Something crunched under his foot. The mists fell back to reveal an ancient, blackened rib cage. The skull sat behind it, a helmet still resting uselessly upon it. Ronman and Ruthless gawked at the hole in the reinforcing band of steel at its base. Now other bones were visible. Bones of men, horses, pack animals, and larger beasts neither one could even pretend to identify.

A low howl came from behind them. Other throats answered. A half-dozen pair of yellow eyes glowed in the fog.

Ruthless' whiskers twitched in irritation. "When we're done with this, Ronman, I'll explain to you the concepts of foreshadowing, irony and JINX!"

Wolves came out of the mists, stopping some thirty paces away. Six rangy, gray-furred beasts that came up to Ronman's chest stared at the Actuarians. Their white fangs contrasted nicely with ravenous yellow eyes.

"Dire Wolves." Ruthless relaxed. "So, do you want the three on the right, or the three on the left?"

"I'll go for the three on the right." Ronman jerked the throwing axe from out behind his belt and let it fly. His throw was not up to Actuarian standards, striking three pores off the center of the wolf's nose. _Make that two…wha..?_

The wolf did not as much as flinch as the bright steel struck it. Sparks flew. As they touched the beast's snout, flames erupted. They traveled down the length of the animal. The other five also sprouted fire. Six flickering lupine heads drew back and howled their unspeakable hunger.

Ronman took a step back. "Not Dire Wolves, Ruthless, FIRE WOLVES! RUN!"

The Actuarians were off in a flash. Never had the Fire Wolves seen man or rodent run like this. It promised them well developed leg muscles, lungs and hearts. And where you have a good heart, is there not a large liver?

A fork came up on the trail. One path sloped easily downhill, widening into an open valley. The other was a steep uphill incline, slick and dangerous. His Actuarian senses took over and Ronman led Ruthless up.

Again the alpha wolf licked his lips in anticipation. Most prey chose the easy route. They never lasted long: the pack would come up behind them in a semicircle, their flaming pelts turning the ice and snow into slippery slush. Once it fell, the pack would set upon it; spilling its red blood on the now firm and toasty earth. This creature was too cagey for that, choosing the path more easily defended. It must have a skull full of brains. Yummy!

They ran under a gigantic sheet of ice overhanging a ledge. The first wolf passed, then another and another. More water dripped as each scorching lupine form raced along. It gave away as the sixth wolf ran under it. A wall of ice and snow cascaded down behind the ice. There was as howl, a whimper and then steam and silence. The pack stopped going back to sniff at their fallen comrade. Just a quick appetizer…

Hearing the noise Ruthless risked a backwards glance. Hope rekindled in his heart. "Ronman, it's not steel…water kills them! We need a place with plenty of ice and snow!"

"Up there!" Ronman pounded up the path to an almost vertical outcropping. Uniform gray stone sparkled with frost. Ruthless used his claws to scramble atop the ledge. He extended his harpoon to Ronman, who pulled himself up. They found themselves on a level set of flag stones.

Down the trail the pack turned away from their impromptu meal. Eyes blazed even more fiercely than the fires on their hides as they renewed their pursuit. Snowballs rained down on them, hissing whenever one hit. They began to claw at the rock, seeking a way up.

"We need more snow!" The NSTMR shouted as Ronman pushed the last of the snow down on the lead wolf, which howled in pain and jumped back. Ruthless looked behind them. Another oddly straight and even rock formation held a great heap of snow perhaps seven feet above them. The overhang would normally be considered dangerous: at the moment it was providential.

Ruthless smashed his sword pommel against the stones. Snow slumped down. Ronman pushed it to the front of their ledge. A wolf somehow made a leap carrying its head and forepaws into the white pile. Its corpse slumped back down to the ground. Encouraged, Ruthless continued to beat at the stone.

"Let me help!" Ronman raced to the wall. One spot called to him as weak. The second throwing axe came out. He hit the wall at a run, but they got no snow, at least, they did not see the result.

A great crack ran up and down the stone. It spread to the flagstones under their feet. Neither adventurer had been able to lay aside their heavy packs. Overbalanced, Ronman and Ruthless found themselves falling into the darkness. They struck the ground hard. It was amazingly smooth and steeply sloped. Over and over they tumbled.

The ground finally leveled off. Their landing was none too soft. Ruthless groaned and moved his neck from side to side. Ronman sat beside him, pulling on the horns of his helmet; it had wedged itself at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't see! Ruthless, help me with my helmet."

"Not that it will make any difference, but hold on." Mighty rodent hands wrested the helmet off. Blackness. Even Ronman's barbaric Actuarian eyes could not pierce the darkness. "Hold still, Ronman, I'll light a torch."

Ruthless appeared in a flash of flint and steel. Darkness returned. He did it again, and again. Finally a small pile of tender was flickering. The NSTMR produced a torch and there was light. "We can't dawdle, I don't know if we'll find torch material in here."

"I think we're going to be okay." Ronman said quietly. Not three feet from him a spear leaned against a wall. Bony fingers were still wrapped around it. The warrior was seated and draped in cobwebs. "How long has he been here?"

"Centuries and he's not alone." Ruthless tipped his torch forward. At every yard another figure was seated against the wall. Most held spears though some larger skeletons gripped axes. Their corroded bronze helmets and rusty iron scale hauberks matched. They looked like an army taking a break from a march.

"This isn't a cave, this is a hallway." The two walked past the long-dead soldiers, marveling at the straight walls of cyclopean stones. Ruthless marveled. "I've never heard anything about a civilization existing here."

"Could this be the Lost City of Boulder?" Ronman gasped excitedly. "They say it was the richest city ever! There could be mountains of gold in here!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Great Boulder of the ancestors now lies under the waters of the Stormy Sea to the west. No, this is some city no one has ever heard of: one so old that the mountains have reclaimed it!" Ruthless stopped to look at a standard; he rubbed off the dust to reveal a golden gleam.

"But you could be dead on about the swag."

"Hey, isn't that a door up there?" Ronman pointed. A wide door lined with strange symbols was set into the wall. Ruthless took a spear from a corpse, snapped it in two and wrapped material from the long dead soldier's cape at the end. He handed Ronman a torch of his own. The door opened with no hint of rust on its hinges. Barbarian boy and rodent gazed at the sight in slack-jawed wonder.

Gold, everywhere the gleam of gold greeted the companions. There were piles of gold coins with strange symbols. Gold plates lay stacked almost to the high ceiling, most of them topped with pitchers and cups. Ronman reached down to pick up a curious item.

"What's this, Ruthless? It looks like a tiny trident."

"I don't know. It may be some torture device that only the civilized could come up with. Odd that they would put them with spoons."

Gold necklaces lay in great coils like snakes of wealth. Jewels sparkled in the torch light. The light situation improved when Ruthless found golden lamps and perfectly sealed solid gold oil containers. The two now advanced with lamps, stopping from time to time to discard one golden treasure for a greater one.

"Shrom, my purse is full again! You know, Ruthless, what would really help right now is some storage in my breeches…a breech sack maybe, at the hips."

The NSTMR shook his head. "You have the strangest notions, Ronman." Suddenly the rodent stopped and gasped. "Look, Ronman! A new treasure!"

Ronman's greedy eyes followed Ruthless' dark orbs. His blood burned at the sight. "Not gold…steel!"

At the end of the room a mighty sarcophagus reposed, its gold defying time. Images of wealth and might ran along the sides. Unknown runes ran along the sides on the lid. The top itself was plain…a stunning mirror of gold. The only ornamentation on the top was a pair of golden hands. The right one was above the left. In the right palm a hilt rested its bindings still intact. The left hand supported the blade. It was the most stunning piece of work either had ever seen. No rust touched the double edged yard of steel. Runes appeared to run with red fire, promising swift and messy death to all who stood before them. The hilt itself appeared to be a dragon descending upon its prey; its head on the pommel, the wings forming the guard.

Ronman could not help himself. Carefully he lifted the blade from its cradle. He produced a piece of cloth and cleaned off the offending dust. The balance was perfect. With a laugh he swung and twirled the deadly length of pure steel. Ruthless watched form a moment before he returned to the serious business of deciding what to ditch before loading his bag with gold.

"If we can get those fire wolves, we'd only need their pelts…no cold can touch you when you wear one. That would free up a lot of pack space! We might want to look around and see if we can find some sort of wheeled contrivance. Or we could tie some spears together to make a travois. You can practice with your new toy later, let's go."

Ronman turned from making a thrust at an imaginary attacker. A golden candelabrum toppled, starting a small avalanche of treasure. "Whoops, my bad."

"Don't worry." Ruthless smiled and turned from the doorway. "It's not like you're going to wake anybody up." He stared at Ronman's shocked expression. "What is it?"

Ronman was pointing past Ruthless. "Argh! Foreshadowing! Foreshadowing!"

A whistling sound came to Ruthless' small ears. Instinct saved him as he ducked beneath a mighty swing of an axe. The blade bit into the stone of the door frame. The NSTMR drew his sword to and snarled at his opponent; an enemy whose withered arms found no problem in wielding its weapon. Demonic flames flickered in its otherwise empty sockets. He could hear others coming up behind it.

"Not foreshadowing…irony!" Ruthless jumped back as the axe smashed onto the floor. He jumped up onto the haft just behind the axe head to drive his sword up under the chin of the skeleton warrior. Ancient bone crumbled to the barbaric steel. The first foe went down.

Other axe men shambled into the crypt. Ruthless fell back as two more swung their weapons at him. With the doorway open more now made their way through. Rusty scales clinked, cracked leather boots scuffed along the stone floor. Other than that the guards made no sound.

"Shrom, the odds look good!" Ronman yelled the Actuarian battle-cry as he brought his new weapon into play. Two guards were bearing Ruthless down as he caught their axes on his great sword. The new sword sheared through four arms. Though long dead, their owners seemed to stare at their stumps in wonder before Ronman smashed in their helmets with the next blow.

"Thanks, Ronman! I finally owe you one!"

The guards pressed their attack with all the relentlessness of the undead. Axes chopped at necks, spears jabbed for vitals, and swords rang out, whistling for warm living blood. Mere mortals would have cowered and died before the nightmare. Neither Ronman nor Ruthless were mere mortals. They were Actuarians, cool calculators of the odds. Given a choice of fighting the living or the dead, they would gladly take the dead. They were slower and less aware that they had the Actuarians right where the Actuarians wanted them: within swords length.

Ruthless cut the legs out from under an axeman. Before the truncated foe could hit the ground the vicious rodent sheared away his hips. Next went the arms. Finally Ruthless was jumping up and down on a crumbling skull.

"Way to go, Ruthless! You da anthropomorphic rodent!"

Ruthless grinned amid a head of broken bones. His keen sense caught a sound. He turned to face the door. Ronman followed his lead.

Their enemy had regrouped around their golden standard. Fresh warriors stood shoulder to shoulder at the door with spears leveled. The spearheads were still sharp under the rust. Slowly the phalanx made its way over the shattered bodies oft their comrades. Chilling growls somehow issued from leathery throats.

Boy and rodent retreated until their backs were against the sarcophagus. With keen fearless eyes they surveyed the situation.

"We must break their formation." Ruthless observed. "Once we're among them they'll be helpless."

Ronman looked around. "Hey! We could tip those piles of plates over on them. That should work."

"But it would make such a mess; and hasn't there been enough of that already?"

The barbaric duo went rigid in shock. Their enemies forgotten, they turned slowly to see where the voice had come from. They noticed the sarcophagus lid had rolled down and its occupant was sitting up.

He was resplendent in rich robes of red, white and gray silk. A bejeweled band of gold encircled his head, its stone the same cloudy blue as his eyes. It was a jovial, pleasant tanned face, nicely complemented by the gray hair. A hand extended to Ronman.

"My sword, if you would be so kind."

Ronman found he could not resist the cultured voice. Old but not feeble hands gripped the hilt. Once it was within his grasp the old man raised his hand and looked past the Actuarians. The old man's voice rang out with authority.

"Halt!" The two at the sarcophagus turned to see a forest of spears. Death had come within inches.

"Thank you, gentlemen. Return to your posts." Spears lifted in salute and the ghastly guard turned on its heel. Those in the rear stopped to pick up the pieces of their fallen comrades. He gave them another order. "Just leave them, my good men. I'll call house cleaning." Ancient helmets nodded to the old man and the guards went outside.

Now the old man returned his attention to the two before him. "Uh, could you two give men a hand? These old bones aren't as limber as they used to be."

Strong arms lifted the old man out and set his feet upon the floor. Upon its tip touching the dusty stones the sword turned into a walking stick. The old man leaned upon it with a sigh.

"Boulderarian, I thought I had dreamed it." A smile creased his face. "I don't know you, but Boulder, I never forget a city."

Ronman sheathed his sword. "I am Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara, Heads of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe. We are Actuarians, descendants of Great Boulder."

Not to be outdone Ruthless introduced himself. "And I am Ruthless! Son of…of Lovey Bits and Cheesy Whiskers." He muttered the last bit, his cheeks flushing red.

"An honor, gentlemen." Their host stood straight up. "I am Old Ancient the Elder. Once…two thousand years ago…I was a prince, with power over thousands! You are in Cordoba." His gaze reached into a forgotten past; reluctantly he returned to the present. "Now I am simply an old man preserved by dark sorceries and a mixture of eleven secret herbs and spices, watching over my lost city."

"This was a city?" The battle forgotten, Ronman was open to wonder and enchantment. Ruthless permitted himself a small grin at his friend's naiveté.

"Oh, yes." Elder replied. "Come, I will show you. Do not worry about the guards; they only attack on my orders."

The trio left the crypt and continued down the hall. A glance showed the guards had resumed their positions, having shifting into the gaps opened by barbarian steel. Something stirred ahead of them. A grim procession of zombies shuffled by, dragging mops and brooms behind them in the listless manner of servants from time immemorial. Elder shook his head.

"Forget the saying; you could never find good help."

Ronman wanted to return to the earlier topic. "So the whole city was built under the mountain?"

"No, my friend, only the lower sections; those for storage and burials. The top of the mountain was leveled and Cordoba proper was built atop of the base."

Nostalgia tinged Elder's voice. "Ah, you cannot see through the fog, the great trees and the passing of centuries just how wondrous my city was! The proud towers and mighty walls gleaming over fertile farm lands, cool woods and soaring mountains whose springs nourished all. From here I…"

"Unleashed your ravening hordes to conquer the soft lands to the south?" Ronman's eagerness could not be restrained. "You're perfectly positioned for that."

Ancient brows furrowed. "Absolutely not! From here we directed a trading empire. The gold piled in my tomb and the treasuries came from commercial activity. People from as far away as Boulder paid dearly for our fine woods, gleaming Chrysler steel, and of course our rich Corinthian leather was legendary." The blank stares drew a sigh from the old walking corpse. "I suppose that was a bit before your time."

"Never thought of trade." Ronman shrugged. "I mean, we sell our swords as mercenaries, but aside for that the only thing we trade with outsiders are blows."

They ascended a long, ponderous climb to the walls. Even in its crumbling state the circuit was amazing. The walls blending in perfectly with the mountains contours.

"Shrom!" Ronman declared. "No one could take this city!"

"No one ever did." Elder answered easily. "Actually no one ever tried. Through prudence dictated maintaining a strong army to guard my city and its lands. It serves me still; you encountered the merest portion today."

"Wow." Ronman whispered. "An undead army: tireless, fearless, immune to cold or hunger, able to outlast any siege."

"True, no army could ever take these walls." Elder nodded. "But an empire needs offensive capabilities above all. My undead army is too slow and too small to conquer new lands and defend Cordoba."

"Then you'd need another army…one of the living!" Ronman's face shone. "There are savages out there, right?"

The question brought a dismissive wave from the preserved old man. "Those wretches? Degenerate descendants of Cordobans who fled the Keening Horror that came after my passing."

"Keening Horror?" Ruthless was intrigued.

"Yes, I had hardly settled into my eternal slumber before a bunch of caterwauling priests awoke me, begging me to drive the monster out of the city. Before I could ask them its identity they fled, along with the rest of the city."

He looked down from the tower to the city's single gate. A crude blackened altar stood before it, the ground around it littered with bones. "The pathetic fools come and sacrifice to me. They call on me to restore them to greatness. Bah! They fled greatness! How can such craven savages compare with those who came back from the grave to serve me? Even if they were loyal, they are so far fallen. Their weapons are stone! Furs are their armor! And don't get me started on their lack of organization."

In his fervor Ronman had an answer. "Weapons can be made. You still have your steel and smithies, right?"

Elder nodded but did not seemed convinced. Ruthless joined in. "I think he's more concerned about discipline, Ronman. Let me offer a solution. On the northern border of Middletonia lies the stronghold of the mercenary general Henchconan. No one is better at whipping levies and gutter trash into fighting trim. He also specializes in siege warfare; both the weapons and methods."

The old king's blue eyes were thoughtful. "This is the most stimulating conversation I have had in many centuries. Perhaps we can resume it at another time. For now I have another matter to attend to." Hope brightened his face. "Perhaps your keen intellects could be of use. I promise to make it worth your while."

Ruthless' whiskers twitched. "Could you give us a minute, Elder?"

"Of course, take you time. I am in no hurry."

They turned away from Elder. "What do you think, Ronman?" Ruthless asked.

"He seems trustworthy." Ronman answered approvingly.

"As trustworthy as any undead man can be." The NSTMR agreed. "Well, you're the human."

They turned back to Elder. "Okay, dead dude, we're on it!"

Elder smiled. "Wonderful! Now, if you would follow me."

They walked down from the towers overlooking the gates. The barbarians marveled at the lost city below. Broad boulevards lay chocked with snow. Rows of neat stone houses were vacant and roofless. Fine mansions languished along with grand civic buildings. A massive tree towered out of one such structure.

One square was different, it was clean and gleaming. A palace overlooked it, light pouring from its many windows.

"My palace." Elder said proudly. "And the place where your genius will be put to the test."

Curiosity drew Ronman and Ruthless as strongly as the call to battle or the possibility of loot. They passed by a skeletal grounds crew making its one millionth sweep of the yard. Gold covered doors opened as they neared them.

"The monster must be in there." A wincing Ruthless hunched his shoulders against the noise.

"Like a bunch of demons being tortured." Ronan stopped his ears in an effort to save his hearing.

Elder looked at both sympathetically. "Yes, the demon backup band is dreadful. Don't worry, I shall release them."

The unearthly noise came from a great enclosed garden. Overhead an enchanted glass ceiling repaired itself after each ear splitting note shattered it anew. In one corner a band of demons banged on drums, blew horns and tormented other instruments. Awful as they were, their badness paled in comparison to the one they accompanied.

He sat on a throne strumming a lute. Physically he was impressive. The shoulders were broad, the arms and chest well muscled. His torso tapered to the waist in the perfect male triangle. The legs were much smaller but still strong. Tanned skin stood out against the light colored clothing.

The face was handsome, almost too much so. Black hair lay slicked down, gleaming in the lamp light. Clear blue eyes, the same color as Elder's, gleamed as he played. He looked like a god and sounded like a banshee.

Elder's cold hands tapped each Actuarian on his the shoulder. Gratefully they followed the old king into another room. Once the door was closed Elder waved his hands at it. A blinding flash was followed by blessed silence.

"Who is that?" Ronman moaned as he dug a finger into his ear.

"My son." Elder's voice was full of pride and a concern which touched even Ronman's and Ruthless' stout barbarian hearts. "To save him from the Keening Horror was the only reason I answered the priests' call to come back from the dead. He alone remained while I searched for the creature, a monster whose voice could shatter glass."

Ruthless smashed his foot down upon Ronman's foot before the boy could stick it into his mouth. "And what would you have us do, Great Elder?"

The silver haired head turned toward the door. "My son has only ever had one dream: to be a great musician! Ah, the gold I lavished on the finest tutors, the most skilled instrument makers. They fled along with everyone else from the monster. And no one would come here afterward.

"So I employed others. I summoned ghosts, demons and other beings of myth and legend. They all failed me! Please, I beg you, my friends, help me make my son a great musician! He is still such a boy at heart, and I am not so old that I no longer remember the power of boyhood yearnings."

Ronman's curiosity prompted him. "What was your dream?"

Old Ancient the Elder changed. His eyes grew strong, he bared his teeth. The normally smooth voice became rough, guttural. "To be a mighty and feared conqueror! To crush my enemies! To see them driven before me and to hear the lamentation of their women!" His chest swelled, his shoulders went back. The cane reverted to its sword form, runes blazing. Suddenly he chuckled.

"You can do none of those things when you are busy mediating labor disputes and negotiating trade treaties." His mild form returned. "Come, the set is finished. I'll introduce you to my son."

A lovely quiet greeted them as they emerged. At Elder's glance the demon band vanished in a puff of sulfurous smoke. The young man removing the broken string from his lute did not notice.

"My son, we have guests; living, willing guests. And these men have come to use their genius to help you."

"Really?" The man with a warrior's build had the voice of a chamberlain; high and whiny. He stood up excitedly. "I am Old Ancient the Younger. Have you truly come to help me?"

"That is exactly why we came." Ruthless lied with civilized ease. "First, tell us exactly what your dream is."

"Poppy did not tell you?" the alleged singer frowned.

Ruthless hemmed for a moment. "Well, yes, but we need to hear it from our client…to make sure we're all exactly on the same line of the scroll."

"All right then, here is my dream." Younger's eyes were distant. "I want to be a musical sensation!"

"A musical sensation?" Ronman puzzled.

"Yes! I want it all! The success! The adoring fans! The packed venues! Thingies thrown onto the stage!"

Ronman was utterly lost. "Thingies? I don't know…"

Ruthless jumped in. "What my associate means to say is that we don't know how long it will take, but it won't take long."

Younger's smile was childlike, just short of pathetic. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" He pumped Ruthless' hands with great vigor. Then he almost broke Ronman's strong hands with his frantic grip. He sprang back and practically skipped down a hallway.

"I must go practice signing my autograph! If you need anything for your job, have your people summon my demons."

A figure slipped out of a doorway to follow the dwindling Younger. Ronman shrugged. _Must be a demon. _Then the barbarian looked down at his hands.

"Warm. His hands were warm! Is Younger…"

"Alive?" Elder's eyes glowed. "Yes. He is very much alive. You see, he inherited much of my sorcerous ability. But he never studied the dark arts. Instead his powers reverted to a form of primal will power. He vowed to live until he achieved his dreams. Not only did he not die, he did not age." He stopped and grimaced. "Or grow up. I only hope you can help me to help him."

"Can we?" Ronman asked Ruthless.

"Yes we can!" his rodent friend affirmed.

"But how? Even with all his powers Elder here couldn't make his son a great musician."

"He's right." The undead king nodded sadly. "With all my efforts and powers, he has never advanced beyond good."

"Stage Dad." Ruthless muttered under his breath. Then he flashed Elder a knowing smile. "He doesn't want to be a great musician…he wants to be a musical sensation! The first requires native genius along with countless hours of hard work. There is no shortcut, unless you count the ones who sell their souls.

"The second one's easy: all you need are looks, decent choreography, a publicity machine and some manufactured controversy! And you only sell your soul figuratively here!"

"So you can do it?" No words could describe Elder's hopeful expression.

Ruthless bowed. "Sir, we'll have him on his way before the first thaw."

"You shall have whatever you need. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, the sun is rising and I find myself growing fatigued. Rooms will be provided for you here in the palace. Rest well." A strong wind came from nowhere and blew over Elder, who appeared to melt away with it.

"What's your plan?" Ronman demanded.

Ruthless shook his head. "Right now we both need something to eat and some rest. We'll be running on a different schedule for a while. First some food…"

Before the last syllable faded a small multi-scaled creature appeared. It announced with a toad like croak. "Dinner is served."

RB

Never had Ronman or Ruthless eaten so well. Their feast was varied in tastes and textures, perfectly prepared and in quantities beyond even their mighty appetites. They could barely move when a creature like a winged serpent of fire appeared to take them to their rooms.

Those rooms were also worthy of a palace. Ronman could not believe how much larger his room was than the family hut in Actuaria. A massive bed was piled high with fine furs. The day had been long. Ronman had just enough strength to strip down to his loin cloth, set his sword on the stand to the right of the bed and climb into it. He barely noticed the demon vanish as he lay down. He definitely did not hear the whispers in the shadowed corners of the room.

But not even exhaustion could completely dampen the panther like senses of the Actuarian. He sat up and reached for his sword when he heard the door open.

White. She wore white boots. Blond hair flowed over the shoulders covered with a polar bear fur robe. The fair face and blue eyes glowed when she saw him.

"Tara?" Ronman stood up beside the bed as the sword slipped to the floor.

The Actuarian girl lifted the hems of the robe in her hands and Ronman realized she was dressed exactly as when he last saw her. She twirled around and around, each circle bringing her shining form closer to him. At the last turn she undid the clasp of the robe and landed in Ronman's arms wearing only her boots.

"Ronman!" Her cry was triumphant as she pushed him onto the bed. Before he could do or say anything she had his loincloth off. Her hips worked with a delightful urgency.

"Tara," he was able to gasp. "how did you get here?"

"I am a Seer." She purred as she bent over to give him a teasing bite on the neck. "It was only a matter of looking. I just came to remind you. You're mine, Ronman. You're mine as surely as my child is yours."

"M-Mine?" the boy's love-addled mind struggled with the concept.

"Yes, yours. All of the strongest Seers are fertile their first time. And I am willing to bet our daughter will be a great Seer in her own right. You will have great adventures, my love, but do not forget. You must return for the Claiming Ceremony, and no matter how many others you may bed, you are MINE!"

"Yeah, mine…I mean yourssssssss."

Pleasure overwhelmed Ronman's senses. Blackness took Tara's smiling face away from him.

The setting sun woke Ronman. He reached to his side to touch nothing. The side of the bed had clearly never been occupied, causing him to sigh. "It was all a…"

Instead of resting on the stand, his sword lay in the floor, along with his loincloth. On an impulse he brought his hand up to his neck. It was sore.

"…dream?"

RB

Breakfast waited in the form of mountains of fruit and meat. Sweet round breads and tankards of fresh milk provided the finishing touch. Much to his chagrin Ronman could get no clue from Ruthless regarding his plan.

"We need to float it by the Ancients first." Ruthless led the way from the dining area.

Old Ancient the Elder appeared in the main hall of the palace once the sun was completely down. "I suppose my son is not up yet? He still has the habit of staying up all hours of the day."

"A party animal; a good sign." The NSTMR's comment turned Elder's somewhat displeased look into one of approval for his son. "I think we can discuss my plans for Younger while he catches up on his sleep."

Elder's curiosity rivaled Ronman's. "And what is your plan? How will you make Younger a…what did you say? Musical sensation?"

He looked at Ronman, who tried to hide his total ignorance by grandly gesturing to Ruthless. His comrade responded by raising his paws in front of him and looking through them as if gazing into the future. The smallest creature in the room again proved he had the most resounding voice.

"We put on a show!"

"A show?" Elder and Ronman were equally confused.

"We need to get the buzz out." Ruthless went on. "The world needs to know that the greatest performer since Barbina is right here in Old Cordoba. You do that with a show! The show generates curiosity, which generates publicity which generates FAME. Once you have that going, it practically feeds upon itself."

Ronman saw that Elder was nodding vigorously. "Then it is done! We shall have a show which will make him the talk of the Underworld! I shall summon bands, road crews, whatever else you need."

"Good!" Ruthless was pacing now. "We also need him to feel like a star. He'll need a posse…"

"Posse?" Elder was lost.

"Bodyguards, accountants, valets, people to make his life easier by handling the details. Add to those yes men, sycophants, hangers-on: the sort of useless dregs that attach themselves to the rich and famous."

"There we are fine." The old king gave a soft laugh. "I have a tomb full of courtiers. You'll find no finer collection of useless corpses in the world."

"What about me?" Ronman asked Ruthless.

His old pet seemed not to notice Ronman as he talked with Elder. "Courtiers; a posse of professionals! I like it!"

"And don't worry about the dreadful band you heard the other night. This time I shall plumb the very depths of the Abyss for its finest musicians."

"I imagine you would find the best musicians in the darkest dives." Ruthless mused.

"And you've already seen the quality of my guards."

"What about me?" the barbarian boy asked again.

"Your guards are good, Elder, but a star's bodyguard needs to be a little less fixated on disembowelment. It's more about keeping the public at arm's length; and keeping those annoying sketcharatzi as far away as possible, unless you need a 'candid' drawing for public consumption."

"HEY! WHAT DO I DO?" The boy's shout finally caught the other's attention. They looked at each other and Elder put an icy hand on Ronman's shoulder.

"I need someone who can still talk to direct the construction crews."

RB

While they moved slowly, Elder had summoned an army of undead to serve his son's ambitions. A thousand former carpenters wielded rusty saws and hammers with tireless precision. Ronman watched with pride: the stage would be completed by sunrise.

"Good work, Ronman." Ruthless walked over from speaking with some demons that carried a variety of instruments. "I'm glad Elder didn't insist on using dead Cordobans for the band: we need tempo and wind instruments."

"Hey, Ruthless, I'm not doubting your plan…I don't understand it enough for that. But what I need to know is, where did you learn about all of this?"

"Oh, that." Ruthless shrugged. "I have relatives in Uppertonia in show business. They're in an animal act. We don't talk about them much."

Ronman felt empathy. "You mean like we avoid mentioning cousin Barry, who went south to study to be a l-leech."

They quickly silenced the conversation when they sensed someone coming. In a moment they heard the movement of numerous feet. Elder admired the work on the stage.

"I could always pick out a good foreman." He gave Ronman a kindly slap on the back. The boy thought his shoulder might break. "And Younger is most enthused with your plan. He explained another aspect of superstardom. Later I shall present him with his groupies!"

Even barbaric nerves have a breaking point, and the sight behind Elder more than surpassed it for both Ronman and Ruthless. Thirty or more liches stood swaying in the gentle night winds. Wisps of hair clung to parchment thin gray skin. Silk dresses were in the last stages of decay. A golden earring at last proved too much for its lobe, it pulled away lobe, ear, and most of the remaining skin on the dead woman's skull.

Somehow Elder seemed not to notice any of this. "These were the most beautiful women in all of Cordoba. Songs were sung about them, duels fought over them. The passing of each was a tragedy. Now they are ready to again use their beauty to serve their sovereign."

At that one walking corpse ripped off her top. Ronman shuddered even more and went over. He wrapped the withered skin with the old cloth. A head turned empty eyes toward him with a most disagreeable creaking. He swallowed.

"Sometimes it's best to keep a little mystery."

Ruthless had finally recovered enough to speak. "And were you planning to use the necropolis for the crowd?"

"But of course. Who better to give my son a rousing ovation but his own home crowd?"

_Almost anyone else. _The NSTMR looked thoughtful. "A music star had a symbiotic relation with the crowd. We need something a bit more lively."

"I could summon demons, but they're notoriously prone to heckle."

"I'm thinking of a more conventional crowd." Ruthless responded. "You said the tribes in the hills worship you as a god?"

The cloudy eyes flickered. "Those savages, loose in my city? They are not worthy to pass through its gates, much less see my son!"

"But they're what we need; living, breathing people whose energy can feed Younger's performance. Once we get his career underway, we can be more selective."

"If that is what it will take." Elder sighed. "The gathering for the annual sacrifice is next week. I shall visit their witch doctors in their dreams and inform them to bring everyone."

"Good! I'll get with Younger tomorrow and start working on the details of the show itself! And Ronman, you'll…"

"I know, I know," the boy sighed. "I'll get on rebuilding some housing."

"Make sure it's in the low rent district." Elder grumbled.

RB

The vast buffet almost made up for the drudgery of the day. It was one tired barbarian who piled into his bed. Yet he was not as tired as the night before. The whispers almost reached his conscious mind. Memories of his previous night's dream stirred his heart, while the shadows demanded the attention of his sharp uncivilized eyes. He knew not how long he watched the room before he finally drifted to sleep.

A stirring of his sleeping furs caused him to awaken. _Someone's here! _He looked down fearfully as something rose over his legs. The fur lifted and he expected to see demonic eyes searching for blood.

The eyes were not red or yellow or even black. They were green; a soft inviting green, eyes that seemed to look into the very core of his being. The eyes grew closer. As they neared he could see the outline of a lithe figure. It was feminine without being in any way weak. Her hair was a mane that he longed to touch. She moved up to bring warm lips to his.

It was a night beyond his wildest imagination. Her every touch was a revelation. The kisses took his breath away. Their moment of union froze him in an ecstasy of fulfillment. Never had he wanted anything like he wanted this woman. She was warmth and softness and strength all in perfect harmony. Yet all he could see were her eyes.

RB

A massive stage now stood to one side of the palace. Younger was front and center, holding his lute. His complete attention was focused on the pink-skinned figure who sat on a chair before the stage.

Ruthless took the strange cap that slumped to one side and twirled it on a finger. "Now, Younger Baby, what do you want to start off with?"

"Well, I was thinking about covering a classic." He took a deep breath and strummed his lute.

**Sing oh, goddess, the wrath of…**

"That's too long." Ruthless cut in. "It might lose the audience."

"How about this?"

**Ina goda davida…**

"Not much shorter."

Younger was not dismayed. "Here's one. I really like the instrumental opening." His fingers played across the strings of his lute.

**Ta da da dum ta da da dum ta da**

**Ta da da**

**Ta da da da **

"We'll definitely use that one. And I admire your range of material: it shows a real devotion to the art. But we need a rousing dance number to start things off. Something your dancers can really shake it to."

Beady eyes glanced at the four squat forms of scales, horns and furs that stood at the back of the stage. "Such as they are."

"Don't worry. Poppy assures me they are quite fly. They work the Pandemonium Club, the hottest spot in the Abyss!"

"They can attract flies, all right." Ruthless muttered before he brightened up for his star. "Okay, what are you going to use to get their groove on?"

"How about this?"

**Play thee not games with my head…**

"That's it!" Ruthless jumped out of his chair, flashing a saber-toothed grin. "That's just the sort of mindless ju…I mean, just the sort of mind-blowing jumping jive we need to lay down!" His paws went to his hips. "Now, where's the choreographer?

"I'll summon him." Younger volunteered. "Poppy said not to call him until we were ready to start. Flickerfoot hates to be kept waiting."

"Flickerfoot." Ruthless scoffed. "This should be entertaining."

Younger turned his lute upside down and plucked the highest chord. A keening wail went up from his throat.

Scorching winds howled around Ruthless, spilling him out of his chair. From his place on the ground he looked back in dread wonder. Some forty paces away a horror stood smoking in the night air. It towered at least twenty cubits high with shoulders half that broad. Wings of fire and night stretched out and tripled the width. Ruthless noticed three things as it advanced. First, flames moved across its feet with each step. Second, the footfalls sounded like a massive drum being beaten in the distance. Third, it moved with a perfect rhythm.

It stopped just short of crushing Ruthless underfoot. The horned head looked down, the bat-like face grimacing. Smoke poured from its nostrils.

Younger motioned towards the beast. "This is Flickerfoot, Choreographer of the Abyss. Flickerfoot, this is my agent and producer…oh, I'm sorry, I've never asked you your name."

The NSTMR stood up and smiled. "That's all right; it just shows your superstar quality. I'm Ruthless the Actuarian, Old Ancient the Elder hired me to make his son the next music sensation."

The hideous head tilted to one side. "Ruthless, the perfect name for a producer." Its voice was like granite boulders rubbing together. "I guess you want to see how my girls move."

_If they can move. _"Yes, we've a show coming up: Younger's kick-off to superstardom. We need some scorch on the stage."

Flickerfoot folded its wings behind its back. The tips came down over its shoulders and draped themselves about the horrid neck. Hands capable of serving as catapults clapped. "All right, girls, lets do it! Drop those coats." Whines came up from the back of the stage. It nodded in sympathy. "I know, I know. I'm cold too. Just remember, dancing keeps you warm."

The demon orchestra struck up a sustained note. Ruthless had not even noticed which way his dancers had been facing. Four smooth and rounded shoulders peeked out from under the masses of fur and scales. Hoods dropped away from delicate blue faces which rested coyly upon the exposed skin. Each one had her own hair color: pink, green, purple and black, perfectly complementing their solid red eyes.

"Rodent and gentleman," Flickerfoot thundered, "I present the Double Damned Dancers!"

The music resumed; a torrent of different rhythms that somehow blended together. The dancers stepped out of their coats and seized the stage. Each one took up a different beat, leaping, swaying and gyrating. Rutless was transfixed.

Flickerfoot's smile revealed teeth like stalagmites and stalactites. "All right, girls, let's give him what he wants…what he really, REALLY wants!"

Four gorgeous left legs went straight up into the air. Hands shout up, grabbing ankles. They twirled around once, releasing their legs and bringing them down in unison as they faced the audience. Bodies transformed as the legs swept down. The orchestra struck up the pulsating music of the Desert Lands.

Four nearly naked Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rats danced sinuously forward. The music stopped with four pink paws extended, bewhiskered faces smiling while chests barely moved from exertions which would have left any mortal gasping and trembling with exhaustion.

Ruthless was panting. Beady eyes had grown, first to the size of saucers, and then to bucklers. A talon large enough to be a sword blade delicately shut his gaping mouth.

"Well?" Flickerfoot asked.

"ABOOYAH!" The Actuarian rodent cheered. He jumped up and down whistling. "They are da Fire Ships! Do they need mortal representation?"

"No. 'Topside' performances are my summons only." The grotesque dance master turned his attention to the stage. "Okay, girls, I'm going back to work on some numbers for you and make sure the Club is ready for tonight. Throw on your coats, go over the stage and get acclimated, you might be here for a while. If you have any questions, go to Ruthless."

At that a rather predatory grin hit the pink face. He whispered. "Yes, come to Ruthless."

RB

Another fantastic feast later Ronman made his way to his room. Just ahead of him were Ruthless and four clingy, giggly, curious companions.

"So if you rip into a body here, it really bleeds?" One asked breathlessly.

"Oh yes, blood pumps everywhere. You usually get screams of pain as well." Ruthless' deep voice instructed with authority.

"And when you kill something it stays dead? It doesn't just pull itself back together?" The second one queried.

"Well, a necromancer might raise it, but for the most part all the dead do here is rot."

"You're so lucky." Another faux NSTMR sighed. "After a few dozen times the damned learn we can't really hurt them. They get so, so…uppity!"

"Yeah," the one to her left nodded. "We've changed methods. We're part of the Ironic Punishment Department, the Tantalus Division. Made to be the ultimate in female sexuality: flaunting, teasing, tormenting."

"Only there's a problem." One mourned as she rubbed a paw along Ruthless' shuddering arm. "The whole 'look but don't touch' thing cuts both ways. All that time shakin' up bottles, but never poppin' the cork, so to speak."

They were speaking to the soul of empathy. "My poor, poor demonesses. It saddens me to behold such suffering. But wait, we're not in the Abyss! You aren't constrained by its rules here. Does anyone want a taste of Heaven?"

"Me!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

Behind them a barbarian boy smiled and shook his head. _Glad I'm across the hall. _Ronman laughed to himself. A lesser man would have been jealous of the object of the demonesses' affections. Not one of the four had so much as looked at Ronman. Purely out of curiosity he had asked Ruthless why. His explanation would have made no sense just a day ago. Now he understood completely.

"You're not a producer."

_Well, who needs a fake girl when you have memories of a real one? Memories real enough to power dreams! A real girl who's…carrying my child? What does that mean? Maybe I'll ask…nah, I'll see Tara in two years, nine months and…oh, I'll have to ask Ruthless if he's kept track of time. He said I don't want to be late for that party. _

Roman kicked off his boots, set his sword beside the bed and undressed. Lying back in under the furs, he invited his dreams to come calling.

His anticipation was rewarded. The furs at his waist were lifting again. _Could she be_ _back?_ The furs continued to rise until he could see the eyes. Again they were green, but not as before. The eyes of the last night were soft and warm. These glittered gemlike, cold and fierce but not without affection. In his confusion he waited for them to move closer.

Instead of moving forward the furs tilted as if the head was bending downward. Soon the furs settled just above his loins where they began to move up and down oh, so slowly. His head dropped back onto to his pillow as his eyes crossed.

_I didn't know girls could DO that!_

RB

The next morning Ronman's yawn caught Elder's attention. "You seem tired, Ronman. Are your quarters not satisfactory?"

"No, they're great…badical! I've never had so much fun in…my dreams."

"Dreams?" the cloudy eyes widened. "You are having dreams? Dreams of love, or at least passion?"

"Passion isn't the word for it! My dreams are rocking my world!"

The old dead man sighed. "Ahhh, this is most unfortunate."

"How can this be bad?"

"There are many demons. Among them are the Succubi. They feed off the lusts of men while they sleep. It is quite fascinating from a sorcerer's point of view. They can take the form of a complete fantasy, yet very often they shape themselves into women that the victim has known physically."

_Tara. _"Can they do anything else?"

"The more powerful can actually see into the man's future and steal a bit of the form of a future love. Perhaps this is where the feeling you've known a lover you've just met comes from. You have dreamt of more than one woman?"

When Ronman nodded Elder looked grim. "If a Succubus was able to draw your lust from you on one night, she will not change into another form until your desire slacks off. If you have been visited thrice by different women, you have been visited by three separate demonesses. I should place a spell of warding about your room."

"Hey, hey, no need to worry. The Ronman can take care of the demon ladies."

Elder chuckled. "If you insist. However I shall warn you: Succubi can be rather jealous. And while they cannot actually affect you physically, your mind will tell your body that what is happening is real."

"Speaking of real," the boy had to know about the previous night, "can a girl, a real girl, actually put your…"

Before he could ask the burning question a hooded figure appeared around a corner beckoning to Elder. The old man raised a hand in acknowledgment. "We will talk more later, my good barbarian. I need you and your crew to work on Streets Twelve through Seventeen. My visits to the witch doctors went well; some thousands of the ignorant tribesmen will be here in a few days. I already have hunting parties bringing in meat. We need a place for them to stay."

RB

The night dragged on. Ronman pushed his crews not out of any desire to complete their tasks, but to end his shift. He bolted his meal, leaving Ruthless to entertain the Double Damned Dancers with more stories; they could not get enough of the habits of the Seanites.

He threw his clothes off just inside the door and climbed into bed utterly naked. Who would come tonight? What would she do? The furs rose again, higher than ever. His blood pounded in his ears.

Soft green eyes were at his right. They warmed him. Suddenly they shifted their attention to the left. Cold green eyes glared back at the first pair. He felt rather than heard the acrimonious exchange. Suddenly a pair of blue eyes appeared in the middle, rising above the other two. Unlike the green sets, this pair had a voice.

"Stay away you trollops, he's MINE!"

No words could describe the horror he felt as the furs dropped and a commotion began under them. In his mind he could hear the sound of great cats fighting in the distance. Over and over his mind screamed a defense. _Those claws aren't real! Those claws aren't real!_

After a day-long battle the Succubi departed when an exhausted Ronman lifted the furs to get up and go to work. A bemused Elder waited for him outside his room, some curious chalks in his hand.

"I'll go ahead and seal your room for you."

RB

The quarters for the coming hillmen were on the other side of the town from the palace. Elder could not let go of his resentments entirely. Ronman saw very little of either of the other speaking creatures of Cordoba. Elder would come by to inspect the progress. Sometimes the wind seemed to bring him messages, at other times the cloaked figure would beckon to him.

It had been two nights since the kindly sorcerer had warded his room. His sleep was refreshing, if boring. In his weariness he did not even dream of slaughter, much less love. He began to wonder if what would happen if he erased just a little of the lines on the door.

An early storm drove Ronman to seek shelter in a newly completed building. He stood at a table made of an ancient door supported by two walking corpses. Elder was with him. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and the cloaked figure stood there. It started to move back into the night when Elder shook his head.

"No, come in. It was time you were introduced."

The figure hesitated, but shut the door behind it when it came in. With a flourish the old king made his introduction. "Allow me to introduce you to Cordoba's only other living citizen. Ronman of Actuaria, this is Zita."

Dark delicate hands emerged from the robes to lift the hood. Her face was dark and pretty. Eyes like ebon fire flashed in the flickering light. The hair was shoulder length and black. Everything about her spoke of passion, yet she looked at him coldly.

"I'm Ronman."

"I know. I heard His Majesty." Her tone brooked no nonsense. "I am Zita of Cordoba. I am the personal servant of Old Ancient the Younger." She turned back to Elder. "Sire, your son wants you to see the painted tunics he plans to sell to the bumpkins."

"Tell him I shall be there presently. I need to review our progress here just a little longer." Zita nodded to him, but left without giving Ronman a chance to say goodbye.

"You must forgive her. She has not seen many people these past few years." Elder's look was one of pride and disappointment. "Not so long ago you and Ruthless asked me if I had a dream. The first one I told you is a common enough one among kings, but not so common as the other, the one I did not discuss. I long to hold a grandchild in my arms. A little one to spoil, teach and to take to the high tower above the gate and show them their future kingdom, as my grandfather did me.

"There has been an impediment to my dream: Younger. He never has shown an interest in girls. Actually he has never shown an interest in anyone else. Do not get me wrong, he has been an excellent son, but that is not the same. Then the Keening Horror drove away the people of Cordoba, and I feared I would never see that grandchild."

"But Zita was still here, right?"

"I call Zita a citizen of Cordoba, and she would have blended in well with the people of my lovely city, but she is from the wretched hill tribes. As I have said, they come here and sacrifice to me. They brought her to the altar four years ago. She had fire! No begging and crying, or lying there meekly waiting to have her brains bashed out. No, she fought them! They finally surrounded her, the cowards, so I appeared and took her.

"It was my hope that my son, who had been alone so long, might be moved by her passion. I could already tell she was going to be a beauty. For the past four years she has been at my son's side almost continuously. I have done everything to make her a worthy child of this city: tutors in manners and magic, lessons in the great romantic songs and poems. Alas, my son's interests were not kindled. I fear he has been alone for too long."

"Don't give up, old dead dude. Some things just take a while."

"Your youthful exuberance is so refreshing." The cane tapped the floor and Elder vanished.

RB

The remaining days before the concert flew by in a blur. Resurrected masons joined the carpenters in rebuilding their ancient quarters. Hunters led entire battalions of soldiers into the forests to bring back Mammoths and giant elk. Vast quantities of wood waited to roast them. Withered fingers still had the skill to paint vast portraits of Younger all over the city.

For the first time in days Ruthless actually sat down by Ronman where no food was involved. The pink face was tired and worried. "We've got the best orchestra of the Abyss to drown him out, and the best dancers anywhere to draw the crowd's attention away from his singing. How did Elder not wake up when that boy started screeching?

"I'm sorry I've been so busy, Ronman. Demons and stars require constant attention. And now tonight's the big night! After this I'm through with show business, I'm ready to get back on the road of blood and thunder."

"Me too." The blond boy smiled. "Destroying is a lot more fun than building."

At dawn the ancient gates of Cordoba opened for the first time in two thousand years. Hordes of fur clad wretches peeked fearfully inside. Undead soldiers led them to their lodgings. Swarms of demons flitted about with buckets of hot water and strange little sweet smelling cakes that were not for eating. More revenants appeared with furs the likes of which few of the isolated tribesmen had ever seen. Washed and dressed, the tribesmen made their way to a vast feast at the palace square.

They ate and danced and sang around massive fires. There were men, women, boys and young girls who had shuddered at the old altar at the gates. Gradually the attention of everyone was turned to the stage, waiting for whatever great thing the witch doctors had dreamed would come to pass this night.

Security raised their spears to allow Ronman backstage. Demons raced hither and yon as they saw to the inevitable last second problems. Orchestra members tuned unearthly instruments. The Double Damned Dancers stretched in ways that made Ronman forget where he was going. His crew had done an excellent job on the support column he walked into. For the second time since he had come to Cordoba he found his helmet jammed down over his eyes.

"Yo, a little help here." After two thousand years in the grave the soldier could still manage a smirk. He handed the boy his helmet back and shambled off.

Suddenly a whining voice pierced his brain. "No! I insist! Either I get it or the concert is off!"

_Oh no, after all this work and with all the loot at stake. You're singing! _Ronman barged into the room with the solid gold star on the door.

Younger sat at a table lit by candles, one demoness combing his hair and another applying makeup. Their constant prattle made a sharp counterpoint to the group of hangers-on who had lost the ability to speech centuries ago. The superstar was true to his calling, driving his producer insane.

The harried NSTMR was doing a good job of sounding reasonable through clinched teeth. "Younger Baby, I know that it would look great, but we do have other options."

"There are NO other options!" Younger shouted. "I must have Zita sitting in her window for the Love Song of Cordoba."

As always, Elder stood ready to do his son's bidding. "I shall go and cast a spell upon her, my son. She will do your bidding."

"NO! Anyone would be able to tell that she was mesmerized. She must sit there because she wants to. She must respond to my song."

Ruthless tried tact. "This crowd would never know. Or we could use one of their women! Even a demoness."

"Am I the only one here for the art?" The prince shrilled. "It must be a true woman of Cordoba, and she is the only one! This is a matter of artistic integrity!" his posse nodded.

His father growled at the cadavers. "Stop sucking up to him or I'll have your heads lopped off." One of the revenants in the back lifted his head off his shoulders in reply. "Don't get smart with me, Belleos, I'll think of something else for you."

Turning away from the scene, Ruthless pulled at his non-existent hair. "I do not have time for this!"

"Hey, what about me?" Ronman raised his hand.

"You aren't a woman, even when the Seanites put you in that dress it fooled no one." Ruthless sighed.

"No, no, I'll talk to her: see if I can get her to do it." There was too much at stake. "I mean, I've met her."

"She barely gave you a glance." Elder was unconvinced. "I'll go again."

"Poppy, I need you here!" His son's plea sealed the deal. The old dead king nodded to Ronman.

"It is up to you, then. Good luck, Ronman."

He hurried out while Ruthless and Elder begged Younger to at least start his set on time to avoid any problem with the savages. Fortunately the stage was positioned to where he did not have to make his way through the masses of newly (and for the first time) washed savages.

His quarters were at the rear of the palace, Zita's were at the front. Only one door was closed. His knock brought a sharp reply.

"Go away!"

If Zita thought that would be enough, she had never dealt with an Actuarian when piles of gold were on the line. "Come on, Zita, it's me, Ronman!"

"And that is supposed to make a difference?"

"Please, can we talk? It would mean so much to Younger if you would just listen to him at your window."

"Him! Him! It's always about him! Has he ever thought about anyone else in his entire long life? What about me?" The door flung open.

"What about my needs?" Zita stood at the door, dark eyes glaring at Ronman. She wore a dress of fiery red silk. Gold shone around her neck, on her wrists and in her hair. The precious metal blended harmoniously with her dark skin. "He wants me to sit in that window and stare at him like some love sick puppy! He had his chance."

"His chance?" The helmeted head tilted.

"I was so glad to be brought inside Cordoba." Zita said wistfully. "Not just because it kept those bead polishers out there from killing me. It also meant that I would never find myself picking some lout's fleas off of me after he had mounted me like he was some rutting boar. Done me without the slightest thought to my feelings! Without so much as a 'that was great' or even 'what's your name again?

"Old Ancient the Elder was so kind. He taught me how to read, and then opened the great library of the palace to me. I read the histories of the city, its philosophy, and then I came upon the romance section."

Her eyes took on a far-away look. "Poems and stories of love and passion! Strong, brave men; men who were willing to risk all for the women they loved! When Elder introduced me to his son, I realized why he had brought me here…I was to be the object of a Prince's affections! It was just like one of the stories, a poor girl, a strange benefactor and a Prince who needed the love of a woman to become whole.

"It was just like an epic! It took me a year to learn to read and another to learn the etiquette of the Cordoban court. Finally I could be presented to Younger like a proper lady. He was almost polite but utterly wrapped up in himself. But in the stories the woman always reached the beast's heart with her warmth and beauty. I spent all my time with him, became his friend and confidant. Then came the night I felt the time had come, the time when he would confess his love to me."

"What happened?"

"It was a night much like this one. Cool, the night sky filled with bright stars. The aurora shimmered in the air. His father left us to have dinner alone. I wore this dress."

Ronman looked down. Zita was standing very close. She was almost brushing his chest with every breath she took. The view was tantalizing. Actuarian women would sometimes rub themselves with flowers or certain herbs, she was wearing something he had heard Ruthless call perfume. He tried to surreptitiously bend closer to smell it in her hair.

"He took me to my door. We stood here for hours while I talked and talked to keep him from going. I thought he was shy and if I could just make him comfortable, he would overcome his timidity and sweep me off my feet! Instead just before dawn he looked me in the eye and said. 'All this talk of love has really inspired me…I need to go play my lute.'"

Music came from her window along with the grunting and hooting of the hillfolk. The sound filled Zita with a double dose of contempt. She stormed over to her window, opened it and shouted in the direction of the stage.

"That's right, play! Play with yourself for all I care!"

In a moment she was back at the door. "I sometimes wondered, was I too subtle that night? Should I have given me a more tangible sign?" She inched closer. Now her silk clad breasts brushed him as she took in air. Ronman swallowed.

"That would probably have worked." He said in a shaky voice.

"Maybe." Zita scowled. "But I wonder if you can get through that think skull! Would it have helped if maybe I had done something when I turned to go into my room?" The turn was slow and deliberate. Her buttock touched his hip, brushed along his pelvis. She stopped for just a heartbeat before she walked slowly to the seat in front of her window.

Ronman was rooted to the floor as she brought one knee up on the bench and let it slide forward. The other foot was touching the floor, the leg at full extension. "At least I was not cheap. Stretching like this you can tell this dress permits no undergarments of any kind.

"Nor did I give him a 'come hither' look." Her chin was on her shoulder, her eyes smoldering as they traveled up and down his body. "I could even have said something really tacky like 'Enter servant from the rear.' But no! I was coy and proper!" Again she looked down at the man on the stage.

"Go on and play with yourself…it's all you're good for!" Her second round of shouting done, she growled. "Maybe if I had grasped the hem of my skirt and…"

Before she could finish her thought, there was the shocking sensation of her skirt flipping up onto her back. Strong hands were on her inner thighs, pushing outward. She readily assented to their motion, and something definitely not a hand pressed inward.

"What took you so long?" Zita hissed.

"I, ah, still…have trouble with this belt sometimes."

Ronman's experience was rather limited. In fact it was limited to one barbarian girl and three demonesses. Still, he was an Actuarian, and as such was ready for any challenge. They had sent him to get Zita to the window, they did not specify how. And no one could see him from this angle.

Zita caught Ronman's rhythm and took off with it. It was everything the stories had promised. Her breathing was fast, she clutched at the window frame as passion overwhelmed her.

"It's better than I ever dreamed it could be." She panted. Her eyes were screwed shut as Ronman made his bid for veteran status. She swayed and moaned as her body trembled with long-denied pleasure. Suddenly she found that even with the wind blowing cold from the north that she was sweating.

"So hot! So hot! SO HOT!"

Down on the stage Younger had seen the window open. Ronman's timing had been perfect. They had just finished an elaborate dance number and he wanted to change the tempo with a love ballad. Then he heard Zita call to him, telling him to "Just play…you're good!'

So he did not sing. He just played as he looked up to the girl in the window in the best Cordoban tradition. She leaned forward just as they did in the stories that Poppy had told him over the long years. As he concentrated it happened: over two thousand years of lessons kicked in. His singing had never improved despite the efforts of tutors human and inhuman, but now two thousand years of practice paid off. Younger's fingers flew across the strings of his lute.

Elder beamed with undisguised pride. Ruthless stood, slack-jawed in his amazement. In the audience the hillfolk listened in wonder. The looks on the faces of the Double Damned Dancers was the rarest type seen on a stage whether the dancers were human or demon: total admiration. Younger did not see them; his whole attention was focused on Zita.

She could no longer stand even the thin silk dress against her glistening skin. Leaning back to maintain her balance against her hard charging lover, she pulled the dress off over her head. The length of red slipped out of her hands and floated out the window. A breeze caught it and it fluttered over the stage, gently settling over Younger's shoulders.

The Prince stopped playing, bringing a hand up to take the silk and rub it against his cheek. A whisper escaped his lips.

"Thingie."

Others caught on. Newly made garments left the bodies of the young women of the hills. As per instructions, the undead guards around the stage stood aside as a throng of unclad females rushed forward. Even the demoness dancers threw their bits of cloth at Younger before they jumped onto him.

Younger stood in the center of a sea of hormones. His ears rang with screams and his face was covered kisses by adoring fans. And now the girl in the window was naked. No one in any song he knew of had ever done that. He had done it. He was a major music sensation. It was the culmination of his life's ambition.

With a sigh of complete contentment Old Ancient the Younger smiled and turned to dust. Though he passed in the embrace of demonesses, he had to look of someone who could see Heaven.

"What's going on down there?" Ronman asked. He almost fell when Zita turned to face him without breaking their union. She kissed him with all the fire of lost and reborn Cordoba.

"Can't tell. Maybe I'm not the only one getting what they wanted."

RB

Old Ancient the Elder took the passing of his son with surprising equanimity. Even the near riot of the hillfolk did not mar his good humor. In the last of the night Ronman and Ruthless stood with their host at a secret sally gate overlooking the route to the lands of the south. The king of Cordoba stood just out of the light after shaking the hands of the two Actuarians.

"You helped my son to reach his goal, a goal I thought to be impossible. How can I ever thank you?"

"I think you've done pretty well." A brawny pink form shifted the massive pack which now brimmed with gold. The thought of moving through the colds of Hyperbolia gave him no concern as he touched the Fire Wolf fur cloak that he now wore. Ronman had a similar cloak and pack, but unlike Ruthless he had an answer.

"Since Younger has passed on I guess you'll be going back to the old crypt." Ronman reached out to toward the cane. "Since you won't be needing that sword I'd…"

The cane swept back in Elder's hand and flames ran along the awakened blade. Tanned skin turned gray and withered. Cloudy blue eyes became black pools lit with blue flames. A wind blew from behind him. He started to come forward.

"On-second-thought-Mom-did-make-me-one-bon-diggoty-blade." The boy backed into the light, almost trampling Ruthless in his hurry.

"Quite all right." The figure in the shadow was the familiar one. "I wish you both the best of luck. May your days be alive with slaughter and the nights warmed by the fires of burning cities."

"Thanks." The barbarian boy waved. "Have a good eternal night's sleep." He turned and began the trek down the hillside, his best bud by his side.

"So, Zita decided to stay?"

"Yeah, she said she's a Lady of Cordoba. She was talking about trying to civilize the hillfolk. Said that would be part of Elder's new hobby. She did say I could come back any time I wanted."

Ruthless grunted at that. "I have no intention of seeing that place again, loot or no loot! You can only take so much madness in one lifetime."

Once the sun burned away enough of the fog they started to run. Ronman had no intention of returning to Cordoba either, gold or no gold. His backpack clinked most agreeably with scores of gold ingots. Ruthless had opted for less gold and more jewels.

Only the preternatural hardiness of the barbarian enabled Ronman to run after the goodbye Zita had given him. She was indeed every bit as passionate as the poems and epics she had devoured during all those long and lonely nights. But she was already in the past. The blond head under the horned helmet could only look forward; drawn by an image of green eyes.

RB

Old Ancient the Elder made his way along the tunnels beneath Cordoba. The door to his tomb stood to his right. He ignored it and continued until he reached another door. Its skeletal guard still reposed at their posts. Five sarcophagi occupied the room, radiating from a central seal on the floor like spokes on a wagon.

The golden cane struck the stone floor three times. Five lids rolled back and the sleepers arose. Each one sported armor that had lost none of its splendor despite the centuries of dark waiting. Empty sockets were fixated on the sword bearing runes of fire.

"Gentlemen, now that I have the time, I would like to start a new…hobby."


	3. The Color of Carnage

Kim Possible and related characters are the propety of Walt Disney.

Thanks to the reviewers of the last epic chapter: CajunBear73, LonewolfBloodstorm, screaming phoenix, Drakonis Aurorus, keth1, Soth11, aedan Cameron, spectre666, Sentinel103, King in Yellow, Michael Howard, MrDrP, bigherb81, BlueEyedBrigadier, Stubbs101 and all the others with the courage to tough it out in cold Hyperbolia.

2. The Color of Carnage

**They followed the mountain passes out of Hyperbolia and to the East, until they reached Shadyzar the Wicked. There they spent the rest of the winter. All manner of pleasures did they indulge, wealth can be wonderful! But you know, it just doesn't last without good financial planning. By the thaw, Ronman was as broke as he was bored. **

The sun pulled itself over the horizon to gaze at the host below. Red light reflected off of thousands upon thousands of blades and spearheads. Shadows withdrew from the men holding those instruments of death. The dawn lit up a motley band. There were hulking brutes and lean, wiry men, figures encased in iron and others all but naked. Some sported elaborate tattoos while many bore only scars. But whatever their dress or the color of their skin, be it fair or brown, coppery red or black, all in this great army were united in the greed with which they stared at the City on the Lake. A barbarian horde the likes of which had not been seen in over a century prepared to assault Go City.

Two figures stood out at the front of this mighty band, even if they were among its shortest members. One rested pink paws upon the pommel of his broad two-handed sword. A cuirass of blue-steel hoops protected his massive chest. Recently won wealth improved upon his protection. The hoops were now chased in gold. A new set of hoops extended from the back to encase his short pink tail. Beady black eyes peered out from the slits of his new helmet, a silver plated rendition of the Fearless Ferret. The work was that of the finest armor maker of Shadyzar. (Actually he has sub-contracted this job to a toy maker, but he was not about to tell anyone that.)

His companion stood taller but was of a more slender build. He still carried the long sword and shield made by his Actuarian mother, but he had upgraded the rest. Steel greaves covered his shins. A brigantine coat replaced his fur vest. His old horned helmet had been wood reinforced with iron bands. The new one was all finely engraved steel. Even the elaborate horns were steel, reaching almost to his shoulders, razor sharp ends curling upward and downward.

The shorter one looked up at his comrade. "Ronman?"

"Yeah, Ruthless old buddy?" Ronman of Actuaria turned his head toward the Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat. As he did a (tink!) was heard behind him. Ronman was quick with an apology.

"Sorry dude, my bad."

Ruthless smiled at that. At first he had shuddered at the thought of Ronman's new horns. Then it occurred to him: others had more to fear than he and where there is fear, there is a market. The NSTMR had made a second fortune adding cheek guards to the helmets of the horde.

"I trust you plan to be more careful with your money this time." He asked the blond barbarian.

"Hey, I needed the new armor. And I did send Tara thirty ingots, along with the other stuff she asked for; the ivory rattle, twenty bolts of soft cotton cloth and those weird pins."

"Women do ask for the oddest things." Ruthless rolled his eyes behind his helmet.

"Speaking of odd, in her last vision she said she was eating all the time, and the oddest combinations. No wonder she's been throwing up in the mornings."

His old pet could only sigh. "Ronman, I hope this time you'll listen to me and not take such risks with your money."

"But Tara said my money would be protected by a powerful god! You know, Effdeeyecee."

"Ronman, I've never heard of this Effdeeyecee."

The Actuarian boy rubbed the back of his armored neck. "Must be some god of the Far South. That's why I couldn't find a temple to offer sacrifices."

Ruthless chose his next words carefully. "Tara is a Seer, I know that, but she's new to her powers. It takes a while to be able to sort Past, Present and Future into a coherent vision. Until then, she may not be the best source for investment advice."

"All you've done is bury your loot in holes."

"At least I still have mine."

"Shhh!" An archer to their right hissed. "Our leader comes."

Cheers greeted the man riding down the lines. He was balding; wisps of hair floated in the breeze. He was fat; furs and a round breast plate were his armor, a metal suit would have weighed too much. But his arms were still strong and his mind sharp. Anyone who thought about challenging him for leadership thought twice when they noticed that several of the skulls bouncing on the withers of his horse were of recent vintage.

Big Daddy Barbarian raised his hand and the cheering stopped. His voice was strong and full of cunning.

"Well, comrades, here with go with victim number two." Rude laughter rose and fell among the listeners. "We've plundered the countryside and swelled the city with refugees. Their stores are depleted from the winter; they can't withstand a siege. And so their army is coming out. After we defeat it, we'll demand an indemnity: my weight in gold and my horse's weight in silver!" The horde's cheer rocked the earth. Big Daddy and his horse were both hefty. He continued.

"This time, if we capture any royals, we sent them free and have them deliver our message."

More laughter rose, this time directed at Ronman and Ruthless. The horde had formed outside of Shadyzar at the end of the winter. After receiving his horde license, Big Daddy turned his force on Shadyzar and extorted half of his money back. (Rival cities said it was just a form of illegal rebate, but no one could prove anything and Shadyzar continued to issue more horde licenses than all other cities combined.) Now a recognized barbarian horde, with the right to negotiate treaties and exact indemnities, they set off.

First they marched east, to Ancient and Decadent Rhodigan by the Crystalline Sea. The army of Rhodigan fled at the first wild charge. Ruthless himself captured the Crown Prince. Things looked good for the horde as it camped outside the city.

Had Ruthless known then what he did now he would have split that royal skull. Crown Prince Wally was a whiny brat. And as a legally constituted horde they were obliged to treat their prisoner in the manner to which he was accustomed. The King dithered while Wally drove the horde insane with his inane demands. By the end of the week Ronman and Ruthless were yoked to Wally's go-chariot as their punishment for sparing him.

Nor could they rectify their mistake; Rhodigan's king made it clear that should any harm come to his son he would not rest until every last member of the horde was exterminated, no matter how many barbarian hordes, mercenary armies, or dark wizards he had to hire. Two weeks later the horde marched on, settling for half the originally demanded loot.

Now they stood before mighty Go City of legend, waiting to test its far-famed warriors. The stakes were high: fame, fortune and franchise rights were on the line.

"Here they come!" someone shouted. Everyone looked to the city.

Each of Go City's three southern gates opened. Troops of cavalry emerged from each of the side gates while infantry marched out of the massive main gate, flags flying and drums beating. Rhodigan had sent out an armed fashion show. Go City appeared to rely upon harlequins for its defense. A profusion of colors mixed with black faced the horde.

The barbarians watched from the hills as the Go City army advanced in echelon, refusing their right. The lead element on the left was clad in blue and black, led by a knight of formidable size.

Smirking, Big Daddy Barbarian put on his fur lined skull cap and pointed his tulwar at the advancing cavalry. His own horsemen on his right thundered down the hill to meet the coming attack.

Lances leveled from the Go City ranks. Just before the two forces collided the lead blue and black knight glowed blue. He spitted a steppes rider on his lance. Then he impaled another and a third. With no effort he lifted three corpses on his lance and hurled it into the oncoming barbarian horse. Before they could recover he was among them, striking his foes down with a two-handed war hammer.

Ronman and Ruthless stared in wonder at the carnage to their right before a shout caught their attention. Go City's infantry had stopped its advance, standing a hundred paces away. Two short figures in red and black stepped forward. Drawing their bows they nodded to each other. Two archers became ten, a hundred, and a thousand. Ten thousand bows loosed red and black fletched death at the warriors on the hills.

"Oww!" Ronman winced as an arrowhead pierced his shield to graze his hand. Others got by to bounce off his mail. "All these arrows with their hurting!" More arrows thudded into his shield. Ruthless huddled with him under the shield until it disintegrated, along with the formation around them.

Meanwhile on the barbarian left the purple clad cavalry appeared to be at last moving up. The leader of the barbarian horsemen facing them smiled. _At that gallop their horses will be winded before they reach us. _Purple light enveloped the lancers and a force once thought to be a quarter mile distant was revealed to be only a hundred yards away.

The mounted archers dropped their bows and turned to flee, tangling with the heavy horse behind them. Go City Lancers crashed into their disorganized enemy, who instantly broke and fled. Half the purple and black cavalry chased the fugitives from the field, while the rest wheeled left and smashed into the exposed flank of the barbarian infantry.

There was no chance to turn to face the new threat. The horde infantry was fully engaged with the Go City infantry. Spear men in silver and black shouted a booming war cry. Axe men ran up in gold and black. Here and there were enormous men in orange and black wielding great mauls. And to top it off, everywhere darted small soldiers in red and black using short sword and buckler.

One such swordsman lunged at Ruthless, his sword sliding off the hoops of the NSTMR's cuirass. Ruthless' return stab went under the buckler and into the boy's gut. His red eyes went blank and he vanished in a flash of red light.

"They're not real." Ruthless' eyes gleamed. "Ronman! The red boys are illusions! They're not real!"

"They're real enough to me." A nearby warrior gargled before succumbing to a ghastly throat wound. Ronman whirled about to hear more from his friend. His horns caught the victorious Go City fighter in the back of his head. He also disappeared in a flash. Another dozen red lights later and the theory was proven by the Actuarians. During a lull in the fighting they spotted a pair of red and black clad boys directing the Go City infantry.

"They're the real ones!" The pink terror pointed with his sword. "When we take them out…"

"I'm with you, buddy." Ronman flexed his tired shoulders. The two took a deep breath and charged.

"Shrom, the odds look good!"

RB

Elsewhere another barbarian settled on a similar plan of action. Big Daddy Barbarian watched in shock as his horde reeled under the blows of the smaller Go City army. He had to seize the initiative somehow. Then he saw his chance. The blue and black lancers were disordered. Lead a counter charge with the reserve cavalry. Scatter the lancers and kill their leader. That would even the battle again, and he had the larger army. If nothing else, sheer numbers could carry the day.

The black and blue knight turned toward the coming attack. Arrows deflected off of his cunningly worked armor. He grasped the lance of the first attacker and flung the man from his saddle. A twirl and he reversed the lance, throwing it clean through the next man coming at him. Now he readied himself for the third attacker.

Big Daddy urged his horse onward as he pulled back his tulwar. The blue and black knight struck first, bringing his hammer down for a legendary blow. Big Daddy's steel cap flattened. His skull, spine, hips and femurs shattered. Beneath him his horse's back snapped. They collapsed in a heap before Go City's Champion.

Everywhere horns took up the mournful cry.

**Big Daddy's dead!**

**Run for your lives!**

The magnificent horde of the morning degenerated into a craven mob streaming away. Thousands more threw down their arms and begged for mercy. Only in one place was there still fighting.

Ronman and Ruthless waded into their enemies. So many copies fell to their blades that they seemed to be moving through a red fire. The twin targets of their barbaric fury took refuge behind a wall of black and silver spear men.

"Ronman," Ruthless grinned. "we have them…"

"All around us. Oh, man, this tanks!"

Infantry stood in front of them and to their left. Purple and black lancers lined up stirrup to stirrup to behind them. And now a host of cavalry came up on their right, led by a giant in blue and black armor. The man lifted his visor to reveal a handsome face, tanned and square-jawed, with piercing blue eyes. His voice was equally impressive.

"I believe the phrase is 'surrender or die'."

One did not need to be an Actuarian to comprehend the odds. Their swords clanged to the ground.

RB

Ronman and Ruthless entered Go City side by side. But instead of entering as mighty conquerors, they walked in as captives. As the bravest of the enemy they were accorded the place of honor in the processions of prisoners. Nine thousand chained men trudged along behind them before a heckling crowd along winding streets. Finally the road widened as they neared the Citadel by the Lake. The nine thousand captives were forced to kneel in the square with a great clanking of chains.

On the Citadel wall five doors faced them. Four opened: one blue, one purple and two red. The fifth one, green, remained closed. Each emerging figure wore magnificent robes of the color of their door mingled with black. Go City erupted with cheers for the leaders of its victorious army. Silence reigned when the blue and black clad giant raised his mighty hand.

"Thank you, citizens of Go City." Thundered Hegoic the Mighty (Dense. Stop it, Megoic!) As always it is our great honor to stand between our fair city and those who would subju…subjug…subject it to their baddery."

Megoic the Duplicitous (You've got that right. Quiet, Hegoic!) turned to the red twins Wegoic and Wegoik the Multiplicitous. (That's not even a word. Shut up, Hegoic and Megoic!) His thin face lined with contempt. "If he fought like he talked, the enemy would be confused to death."

If he heard his brother, Hegoic deigned not to notice. "Our thanks also extend to the soldiers of Go City. It is an honor to fight alongside such brave men."

Again the crowd roared its approval. In their turn the soldiers waved and nodded to the populace before giving the prisoners the eye.

"Courage such as theirs will not go unrewarded." Hegoic continued. "Our enemy had plundered far and wide. We have recovered three hundred pounds of gold and half a ton of silver, many jewels, arms, armor and all manner of riches. Each man shall receive his fair share."

The walls shook with the crowd's enthusiasm. Even Ronman could appreciate the irony: their attempt to loot Go City had left it all that much richer.

At that point Megoic stepped forward and raised his hand for silence. His long face sneered as he looked over the prisoners. Some chained men shrank back from those pitiless eyes. "And now for our 'guests'." Sarcastic laughter rolled over the hapless barbarians. "Perhaps it's time to show them why we're the leading meat processing city in the world."

A great curtain to the left of the Citadel dropped. Fifty cattle, the main course for tomorrow's feast, grazed from a set of ascending troughs, blissfully unaware of the massive slanted blade hanging overhead. At Megoic's signal it was released, landing with a loud CHOCK! Fifty horned heads toppled in perfect unison without as much as a moo.

In the square hundreds of strong men fainted. The Actuarians looked at each other.

Ronman was awed. "That would be so cool if it we weren't next."

The NSTMR gave a nonchalant shrug. "At least we're first in line. I'd hate to wait."

"You've had your fun, Megoic." The larger man at the Citadel said before he resumed addressing the crowd. "While such an ending would be just, Go City as always is merciful. Our enemies will be sold in the Tri-kingdom markets to the south. The proceeds will be used for urban beautification projects and for the additions to Go Stadium!" The crowd went wild; the proposed taxes for the stadium had never been popular.

Now chains rattled about Ronman and Ruthless as they shook in anger. Freedom was the natural state of the Actuarian. Better to die free than to live in chains! Actually it was better to bide your time and wait for the opportunity to escape. After all, odds were that it would come.

Apparently Hegoic loved to hear his own voice. "Not only have we rescued hundreds of our fellow Golanders, we have recovered thousands of Rhodiganians destined for cruel slavery at the hands of these fiends. An unexpected ally preserved their lives while we advanced on the enemy camp. As a reward he will handle the sale of our captives while I return Rhodigan's citizens to their homes."

Ronman and Ruthless felt their blood boil as the short, slight man with the sharp eyes and receding chin walked onto the stage to take Hegoic's hand. He seemed to wink at the two Actuarians.

"Frugal Lucre." Ruthless mumbled. "What were the odds of that happening?"

RB

Lucre took the slaves out of the city after Hegoic's last epic victory speech. The men munched on stale bread as the aroma of roasting beef wafted around them. They marched the rest of the day and through half the night until the guards' complaint (We can't see the fugitives, we're using too many arrows!) caused Lucre to order a halt.

Men huddled in whatever they had against the chilly night air. Though their fine armor was gone Ronman and Ruthless still had their Fire Wolf pelts, their enemy had no idea what the mangy looking pelts were. Both Actuarians were warm.

From sunup to sundown they moved across the broad Goland Plains. Day after day they marched as Lucre's guards adhered to the policy of 'one fugitive, one arrow'. The food was the moldy bread Lucre had brought to feed Big Daddy's captives. Water was where and when they could find it. They stopped only long enough to remove the chains from the dead.

With their Actuarian hardiness Ronman and his old pet ran across the sharp bladed grasses. Ere long they found themselves chained to the side of Lucre's carriage. The man loved to talk as much as Hegoic, and his voice was far more annoying.

"So how does it feel to be a traitor?" Ruthless glared at Lucre. His beady eyes did not flinch from the guard atop the carriage when the man leveled a crossbow at him.

Lucre laughed. "Traitor? Not at those prices! Besides, I never was a part of the horde, just an independent contractor and my contract died with Big Daddy."

A dip in the ground caused the carriage to lurch. Ronman smiled as Lucre fell into the floor. Smiles vanished when the guard's crossbow went off and felled a man behind them. His employer was outraged.

"Safety ON! That man was still healthy. That's a day's wages I'm docking you!"

"Dude, why don't you ride a horse?" Ronman chided Lucre. "It would be more comfortable."

"And leave the money alone? I'll take my gilded lumps." The chains and crossbow bolt were removed from the corpse and it was time to move on. "You two should have taken me up on my offer after Rhodigan. You'd be guards looking forward to a big payday instead of being inventory."

"There is no honor in being a slaver." Ruthless declared.

"And there's no gold in honor." The Smartyian retorted. "You fought in the front line. I watched from the camp. What were the odds you would survive; and what were the odds that I would find a way to come out on top?"

Ronman concentrated. "On the first, 413 to one against for either of us, 960 to one against for both of us. On you, it was a dead cert."

"They say barbarians are dumb!" Lucre smiled. "Oh, you're good, Ronman. I think I'll take you to the one of the ritzier flesh pits. Otherwise you'd probably end up as a target dummy for the Lowertonian arena."

"What about Ruthless?" The Actuarian boy demanded, brown eyes burning with anger and concern.

"He's not going to the flesh pits. The Uppertonian Premiere Pet Market likes its exotics! A talking Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat should bring plenty."

"A pet?" Before Ronman could throw himself at the carriage in an act of suicidal fury Ruthless grabbed him.

"Ronman, don't question Shrom's evening the odds. A pet owner will lack the security system of a slave master. When I escape I'll come for you."

The hope in Ruthless' words carried Ronman across the next few days. They sustained him more than the scraps Lucre tossed to them. Even an unexpected gentle spring rain did not refresh him as much. Only those words got him through Lucre's endless stories of bargain hunting.

"And that's how I learned that an arrow has to have at least three arrows in its fletching!" Lurcre laughed at his tale. "Goodnight, guys, I'm turning in."

The sunrise of the third week brought changes. The slaves received fresh bread, fruits and even meat. Water flowed in abundance. They started late and ended their marches early. Yet the three days of well fed, leisurely marches did little to raise the spirits of the chained throng for they knew what it meant.

"We're approaching Uppertonia."

RB

Ronman of Actuaria watched the glow of Uppertonia in the night sky. They were encamped with the city just over the horizon. He looked over at his companion, who on the morrow would be parted from him.

Ruthless was asleep. His whiskers twitched as he dreamt. A smile stretched across his face. "Why no, it's not at all like cheese. You'll see, my lovely demonesses, just a few minutes more and you'll see."

Ronman turned away, his face blood red. He lay down and wrapped himself up in his Fire Wolf robe. Its warmth soothed away his worries and lulled him to sleep. He entered the land of dreams.

He walked along a familiar stream. A boundary stone was on either side. They faced away from each other in friendship. To read them you had to enter the other tribe's territory. Ronman had no need to read the runes or look at the totem. He walked down the bend in the stream.

She waited under a tree. The polar bear robe lay covered with all manner of food. Blue eyes danced with joy. When he sat down beside her she leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

They made short work of the food. Never had any girl rivaled his appetite and her belch would have done him proud. With a demure smile she reclined against the tree and lay his head in her lap.

"My poor baby." She purred as she played with his hair. How are you doing?"

"We're all right. Lucre talked our ears off but it got us extra food. But tomorrow's the sale. You know," he said without anger, "you could have warned me this would happen."

"I'm sorry. I was just so mad at you when the spring came. I just didn't want to talk to you. You were so far away and I needed you." She undid the lacing of her shirt. "Oh how I needed you."

Now the sun warmed two youthful naked bodies that lay upon the bear fur. Tara smiled at the boy whose head rested at her bosom. His touch left goose pimples in its wake.

"And I'm sorry about my confusion with the eagle god of gold. Mother told me later that I was at least an Ice Age off there."

"Don't worry, Tara, gold comes and goes." He slid his hand from her ribs and stopped it on her lower belly. "And I see you got my shipment. You're…"

"What?" she asked impishly.

Ronman realized the danger he was in. He had seen it happen to his Dad often enough. "You're uh, ah, great! I'm glad you used some of the gold to buy provisions. You look…hey! Your stomach just flipped!"

"That was not my stomach. That was a very, very little girl saying 'Hi, Daddy'."

"Daddy?" Suddenly Ronman's eyes widened with long-delayed understanding. He sat up trembling. "You mean…she's mine?"

"No." Tara replied softly. "She's my daughter. You're her father."

"I'll, I'll do the honorable thing." The boy said rapidly, scared and happy at the same time. "I'll escape and come back to marry you."

Blond locks shook. "Seers always marry within the tribe. But as her father I expect you to come and acknowledge her within two years, five months and a day. Of course you can come anytime after she's born. Only don't come on the fourth day of the Wolf's Moon. I'm going to break a man's jaw that day. I just don't know whose."

"Don't worry, I won't." he pulled away with a new concern. "I wasn't too rough just a minute ago, was I? With my hands and my…"

"I'm fine." The Seer sighed. "Remember, this is a vision. Even if it wasn't, some more of the father's seed is good for the baby."

"I'll escape. I promise."

Tara's certainty warmed him. "I know you will. I must confess, when I first foresaw the Battle of Go City, I wanted to warn you, tell you to desert. But Mother showed me what lay beyond; that how all of this was necessary.

"All before this was prologue. Your story begins here, Ronman. The road to your destiny begins in Uppertonia. But remember, it ends in my arms. There will be others, I accept that, just as I accept another will be my husband and father my next two children. Just remember, you are mine."

Her lips met his again and her body called to him. The cry building in his throat woke him up.

Ronman sat up; glad it was not yet dawn. In a few minutes he was able to stand without embarrassing himself. A noise caused him to look down. Ruthless was stirring.

"The dawn's coming, old buddy."

Ruthless stretched, his yawn exposing the great incisors. "The day finally comes. Don't forget what I told you. I'll come for you."

"I just might come for you first." Ronman smiled with a newborn confidence. "I have to get back to Actuaria in a couple of years. Need to see my kid."

"So you finally figured it out." The NSTMR nodded in approval. "I pity…no, no mercy on anyone who stands in our way."

After breakfast they took Ruthless away, leaving Ronman to stand alone.


	4. The Most Unkindest Cut

Thanks to bigherb81, Michael Howard, whitem, screaming phoenix, Isamu, Sentinel103, Drakonis Aurous, MrDrP, Stubbs101, CajunBear73, and King in Yellow for the kind reviews. And I tip my horned hat to all the other survivors of Go City.

**Neither my lord nor his companion had ever dreamed that they would spend their days in chains. And now they entered the city where they were to be sold like beasts. But the people of Golden Uppertonia forgot: you purchase wild beasts at your own peril.**

Chapter 3. The Most Unkindest Cut

Uppertonia proved a short march away upon its broad roads. Golden domes shone in the sun, making the city live up to its name. Not even the pall of slavery could completely stifle the wonder of over eight thousand men now headed for its flesh pits.

Lucre divided his inventory quickly. The strongest went to the Muscle Pits, to be sold to those seeking the best laborers and bodyguards. Those possessing skills went to the appropriate stalls. The sickest went to a pit called the Trash Heap. Its clients mainly needed warm bodies for gladiatorial practice, exotic pet foods or unmentionable magical experiments.

The Smartyian led Ronman and a few others to an area whose sign read MISC. The Actuarian boy noticed that his companions all had a gleam of intelligence about them. That was a good thing, for not one of them was physically imposing.

"Why are you here, Lucre? I figured you'd be at the big auctions."

Ronman's question got a Smartyian grin. "You wanna know the secret to the other pits? It's two words: volume and volume! That's why I deal with hordes and armies.

"But the MISC Pit required finesse. You never know what you've got and how the market will respond. This is where you can really make your money. Besides, I get every penny from this sale. I only make thirty-five percent commissions from the others."

They arrived in the examination area. All manner of people looked him over. Cunning eyes traveled up and down. Some asked him questions. One, a man with deep black hair and sallow complexion, poked him with a stick that burned like fire. Ronman jumped involuntarily and bumped into the man. A curious red stone fell from the amulet on his chest and shattered on the ground. Smoky hands arose from the shards and closed in on the writhing figure. His screams were felt more than heard.

The Pit Master dragged Ronman to the very end of the line. He waited all day, listening to the bidding and haggling. At last the Pit Master returned for him.

It was clearly a crowd of bargain hunters. He saw aspiring singers with a posse of one. Wannabe wizards in the starry robes and pointed hats that no self-respecting mage would ever wear slink about in. There was threadbare minor, minor, possibly faux nobility. Most of these people would be expected to pay cash on the barrel head. The Pit Master cleared his throat for attention.

"Our final lot for the day: a barbarian boy. Please do not let the slim build fool you. This youth stood front and center of Big Daddy Barbarian's horde at the Battle of Go City. Indeed he was one of the very few to be taken with weapon still in hand after the death of that worthy old bandit. He should be useful in all manner of pursuits. Shall we start at eighty golden uppertons?"

Silence greeted his offer. It was late and the Pit Master lacked patience. He finally got a bite at three uppertons. Whatever his god, apparently it did not require his priest clean his robe between human sacrifices. The rasping cough told Ronman why the man was here rather than at the Trash Heap: his god did want a sacrifice healthier than its sole living worshipper.

Ronman looked around anxiously. Lucre was talking rapidly to a man whose back was to the stage. The man had a genuine retinue. He seemed uninterested. Most others looked bored, though some gave him pitying looks that made Ronman shudder.

"I have three golden uppertons." The Pit Master raised a hallow brass tube on a handle and drew back a small hammer. "Going once! Going twice…"

"STOP!"

Everyoe turned to the voice. The old priest spun about so violently that he lost a tooth. A servant detached from the party around Lucre's companion. She swept a path clean to the edge of the stage. Behind her a girl walked.

The white dress covered everything but her hands, wrists, face and neck. Those were perfectly tanned and perfectly formed. Her brown hair was short and very carefully combed. Blue green eyes shone with cleverness. It was a pretty face, yet it hinted at capriciousness, even cruelty. She hid both behind a child like expression.

"Lucre said you're Actuarian." It was more of a challenge than a question.

"I am." Ronman replied slowly. "From the shadow of Mt. Hissensteam. I am Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe."

She clasped her hands together. "I've always wanted an Actuarian!" She looked over her shoulder. "Oh please, Dad, please."

Dad was of average height and build but his robes proclaimed wealth. Lucre and six servants accompanied him to his daughter.

"But I've bought you a man servant last year. Are you tired of Bricken already? Even if you are, this one could never replace him as a bodyguard."

"He wouldn't be a bodyguard, Dad." The girl answered. "I need a man servant for inside my chambers. Bricken stays outside the door. Please, Dad, it's a matter of propriety."

The man's eyes were thoughtful. "I see what you mean, Bonya. No slave girl's testimony is acceptable in court; his would be if it remains the same after an hour of torture…or thirty minutes if he dies during questioning. And it doesn't look like he could overpower you, much less Bricken. But he might not have to if… My good sir, could you lower his breeches?"

One pull on the belt and Ronman's breeches fell to the floor. The man's eyes widened, while Bonya gave Ronman an appreciative smirk.

"Bonya, dear, that's too much man to be in your chambers. Even if he is unable to overpower you or outthink you."

She folded her arms beneath perfect (and perfectly covered) breasts. "Fine! I'll take him to the Chop Shop first thing and have him castrated." The petulance vanished as she smiled at her father. "Please?"

The stern face fell into smiles. "I can never say 'no' to my littlest one. Pit Master, I offer four golden uppertons."

"Four!" By the way the old priest stomped off he was out of the biding. The Pit Master raised his tube and hammer. "Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Lord Yan of Uppertonia!" The hammer struck a deep vibration. Ronman could feet it all the way down to the roots of his doomed loins.

RB

Ronman shuffled along behind the litter. Before leaving the stage leg irons had been placed around his ankles and a steel collar whose chains attached the shackles together. Lord Yan's last instructions to his daughter still rang in his ears.

"Be sure to tip them before they start. That way they'll be sure to use the sharp shears."

Shrill screams came from the building ahead. The sign said it all.

**Abel Razor's Chop Shop**

**Alterations, Mutilations **

**Done While You Wait**

**Or Drop Them Off **

**And We'll…You Know**

There had been no chance to run or fight. Ronman now wondered how he could force the men inside the building to kill him.

"Watch him." Bonya told the large blond guard who helped her out of the litter. His hands rested on her hips like there were used to being there. She walked inside and the blond hulk pulled on Ronman's chains.

"I'm Bricken, Lady Bonya's bodyguard. If you're smart and value your loins you'll do what you're told."

"What do you mean? From what I heard my loins are going, going…"

The big man's blue eyes filled with surprise. "Did you think that? Nah, she's lying to her Dad. You'll stay intact as long as you do what you're told. It's called incentive."

While Ronman was processing this Bonya came out with a receipt. She waved it in his face. "This is the receipt for your alteration…complete castration. It even comes with a little glass tube to help you pee." She dropped it into his hand.

"Since I've paid for it, I can bring you back anytime to finish the job. Displease me and I will, understand?"

"Yes, Ma…" Bricken struck Ronman in the back of the head. "Mistress…I mean, yes, Mistress."

"I love it when they say that." She beamed smugly. "Now, you'll spend the night here learning how to act like a castrato. Either act like one or become one. Get it?"

"Got it." Ronman gulped.

"Good." Bonya's smile was sickly sweet. "It's time for proper ladies to retire. I'll collect you in the morning and see if Dad's money was well spent. For your sake I hope it was."

Men from the Chop Shop came out for him. They watched Bonya leave and then took him into a rather nice room where they removed his chains.

"So, this is all fake, even the screams?"

"No, those are real." The man replied as he removed Ronman's shackles. "Mostly work for the city: nonpayment of fines, repeat offenders, the usual. Don't make Bonya mad, she will bring you back. My name's Abel. My job today is to make sure you don't come back, but that depends on you. Are you ready for your lesson?"

Ronman's slow nod met with his approval. He clapped his hands and three woman entered. One carried new clothes. The second held a bowl whose contents wrinkled his nose. Girl number three carried a tray with bread, sausage and a small cleaver.

"Take off those old breeches." Abel ordered. Once Ronman let them drop he continued. "And that old loin cloth." He looked stern when Ronman hesitated. "Don't make me angry, either."

Once Ronman was naked the girl with the bowl stepped over and pulled a brush out of the bowl. She knelt and began painting Ronman, started just under his navel and going down to his mid-thighs. As she worked Ronman noticed her clothing; it consisted of two lengths of cloth joined at her shoulders by strings.

She looked up and smiled. While still painting she bent her head over to her right shoulder. Her tongue snaked out and expertly brought the string into her teeth. A slow pull undid the knot and the cloth fell away. She was perfect. The other two were dressed exactly the same. They each put a hand to a shoulder and now Ronman beheld Three Graces.

Brush Girl was finished with her brush and decided to work on places not so easily reached with bristles. She coated her hand with the red liquid and reached for him. Ronman could barely stand up as her hand moved up and down, tightening and loosening and then slowly twisting. Ronman let out a moan and closed his eyes.

CHOCK! Ronman's eyes flew open. The girl with the food stood at a table. She held the cleaver in one hand and extended a piece of meat toward him with the other.

"Sausage?" She asked. As if on cue, someone screamed in another room.

"N…no thanks." He stammered. The shock had returned him to his normal self, no, even smaller. Bowl Girl wiped her hands, took her bowl and got up with a wink.

Abel cleared his throat. "We don't do this to be perverse. The world will see you as a castrato and expect you to remain unmoved by any vision of loveliness because you're not supposed to have anything to move. If Lord Yan sees you look at his daughter with anything other than complete loyalty and total disinterest you are doomed.

"That paint on you prevents infection and marks you as altered. It will fade in a few days. Unless you want another coat, and an actual chop, you will learn to do everything I tell you tonight."

The second girl helped him dress. His new loin cloth could hide his essential Ronmanness when adjusted just right. Loose breeches of unbleached cotton also helped. Afterwards they taught him how to walk, act and pretend to use his glass tube. Whenever his eyes wandered to any of the beauty around him Sasuage Girl would bring down the cleaver on the ever shortening sausage. At first his tutors ate well, but by the end of the evening all was quiet.

Ronman stood talking with Abel while on either side a naked girl ran a hand along his body while whispering promises of sweet love into an unresponsive ear. Disappointed, the girls stepped out and embraced each other in front of Ronman; coyly at first, then with more and more passion. Finally he reached out and pushed them apart.

"Will you girls move? I can't hear Abel."

His teacher was impressed. "Excellent! You just might make it. Now, it's been a long night and you have a lot to digest. Come on, girls."

Each girl walked up and gave him a kiss. They did not bother to pick up their clothing. He showed no more interest than he would if they were his mother. Before he left Abel issued a final warning.

"There are guards outside the door, and walking the perimeter. Don't try anything."

Ronman sat down on the side of his slab bed. He lay back and went over what he had been told. There would be time to plan his escape tomorrow, but only if he was able to use what he had learned today. Things grew quiet but he did not fall asleep.

Later that night the door opened quietly. Ronman recognized the outline in the light. Sausage Girl. She padded over silently on bare feet. Somehow he made room for her on his narrow bed.

"I want to apologize for today." she whispered. "It is so cruel to chop and chop and chop like that, but Abel swears it is the best way to teach you how to act."

"It's okay, I think it worked." He matched her hushed tones. "And your smile was nice…when it wasn't freaking me out."

"Really?" Ronman could feel her blush against him. "This, this is something we girls do, on our own, and only with the clients we like. It is my turn tonight.

"Bonya and all those 'ladies' are such hypocrites! She would have you altered, even executed, the moment she felt her status threatened. And you will move among those little tramps! Sooner or later one of them will be attracted to you by your sweetness, your gentleness, your undeniable manliness. This could save you from a zealous father or jealous girl."

She climbed on top of him. They were nose to nose. Her voice was almost lost in the darkness.

"Tonight I will teach you to make love with minimal movement and in absolute silence."

Never had Ronman enjoyed a lesson more. What it lacked in sound and fury it more than made up for with tenderness and warmth. And the pleasure went on and on as her smallest motions kept him on the very edge while she shuddered with passion again and again. At last she relaxed ever so slightly. He thought he would never stop.

"You were wonderful!" Sausage Girl gasped as she used her clothing to towel off. "How did you control yourself so well? No man can do that the first time!"

His answer was an honest one. "I was thinking about a friend."

RB

"More cheese, Ruthless?"

"Yes, thank you." The NSTMR settled deeper into the pile of plush pillows. Servants fanned both pet and new master, a young earnest man in rich robes of black trimmed with gold. Thrugo Morphic smiled as his new acquisition gorged himself.

He had been so lucky. A few were looking with interest at the large hairless pink rodent snarling out from the new additions cage at the Class Menagerie. Only he recognized what it was, so only he was willing to pay the asking price. He had his servants load the caged rodent into his carriage. Once safely away he leaned forward.

"If you ask, I'll open the cage."

Ruthless had spent the day luxuriating in Thurgo's tower, his every need attended to. His strength and spirits recovered, a testimony to his barbarian spirit. He was ready for whatever came next. Great incisors made his smile demonic.

"So my dear Thurgo, I know you did not purchase me for my company. What do you have in mind?"

"Come with me, my friend." The young magician led Ruthless down a great spiral staircase. At the bottom was a door leading into a large circular room. Couches lined the walls. A great circle was drawn on the floor, filled with elaborate symbols. At the center was another, clear circle.

"I'm having some colleagues over in two nights. They're expecting a first-rate summoning. I went over my moldiest tomes and spent a month preparing the circle. Yet when I tried it last night…I got nothing! No elemental, no devil, no demon, no imp. Not even a talking vapor! There's no time to make a new one, I'll be ruined! Tomorrow was supposed to be my entry into the big leagues; instead I'll be back to juggling apples!"

"Unless…" Ruthless led him.

"Unless I do summon a creature." Thurgo filled in Ruthless' thought. "I may have erred on my circle, but my grasp on spells of light and shadow is second to none. Tomorrow I shall repeat my spell, with a few additions.

"There is a basement under this floor. The circle in the center is a trap door. Once my spell is spoken a pre-arranged charm will plunge the room into darkness. You will open the trap door and ascend. That will trigger another charm and you will appear to emerge from a dimension of fire! What do you say, friend, are you up to the challenge?"

Whiskers twitched. "I've handled the production end before, but I've always wanted to act. I'm in! Now, you're sure no one will recognize me for what I am?"

"Believe me, this crowd is too busy being other worldly to learn of the animals in the streets, much less something that comes from the Great Desert of the Far South. Though if you want I can provide some makeup."

"It would help. And I need maps of the city and countryside. A demon should know the location of every great house." Beady eyes hid their true intent. "There may be questions from the audience."

"You will have them as soon as we're done down here. Right now I want to work on your 'appearance'. You'll need to know which words will open the trap door. I want you to scamper in at just the right moment."

Ruthless nodded slowly. "Oh, I'm all about scampering at the right moment."

RB

One good thing about being purchased by a lady was the schedule. Ronman slept late, recovering from his late night lesson. Brush Girl and Breeches Girl came by to pick up their clothes, tell him goodbye and to offer additional night training should he want it. Abel had chosen his staff well.

Abel hustled Ronman out the door and to the waiting litter. "Remember what I taught you. You're a nice kid; I don't want to have to work on you again."

Ronman thanked him and walked to the litter. Bricken pulled back the curtain. Bonya's petulant face looked him over. "Not bad. Now get in, slave!"

With guards all around he had no choice. Once they started down the street Ronman made his stand.

"Mistress Bonya, I know that you consider me your property…"

"To do with as I please." She interrupted, holding out a document. "See, it says so, right here."

"Heh, heh, right." It took Ronman a moment to collect his thoughts. "Whatever you may think, I'm an Actuarian, a free-born dude! There are things I won't do!" Her blank look encouraged him to go on.

"I won't work in the fields."

"What's a field?"

"And I won't climb down into a pit to fight other men or beasts."

"Do I look like a Lowertonian?" She asked crossly. "What else will you," she brought up her hands and made a sign with her fingers " 'not' do?"

"I won't push some giant wheel around and around in the middle of nowhere! It's dumb! It's pointless! I WON'T DO IT!"

"I see." Bonya lay back against her pillows and folded her arms. "Anything else?"

"No, that pretty much covers it."

"Good, we don't have a lot of time." Bonya threw him a pamphlet. "You can read, can't you?"

"Of course." Ronman said defensively. "How can you calculate odds if you don't know the facts?" He smiled as he recognized the pamphlet. "The Racing Pages! Dad reads this a lot. He was Actuarian of the Year. I went to the Awards Feast; kinda dull."

"I don't care how wooly your mammoth steak was! Do you know why I had Dad buy you, slave?"

"The boyish good looks? My easy going charm? My enormous…"

"No! No! And a lady doesn't notice such things, especially in the hired help." Bonya relaxed. "I need you to help me pick the winners in today's races at the Uppertonia Hippodrome."

"The races?" Ronman's eyes lit up. "You want me to help you with the races?"

"Right. You see, the Spring Meet is the kick-off for the Social Season. Everyone goes, mingles and bets. Not to win, of course, ladies don't care about money. That's ferociously cool when it comes to shopping, but it's not so good at the track. Thing is, Ronnie, can I call you Ronnie? Thing is, I need to win…BIG, and make it look like I'm not trying. That's where you come in."

"Uh, how big?" Ronman looked up from the Racing Pages. Much to his surprise, Bonya was not insulted.

"I have one hundred golden uppertons to wager. I need to bring home fifteen hundred."

"That's a big mark-up." Ronman mulled it over. "What's in it for me?"

"You, slave?" Her eyes burned dangerously for a moment. Just as quickly they cooled. She gave him a coy smile. "Ronnie, sweetie, I really need this. If you could help me, maybe I can help you. If I could win enough, I could get another, better loo…slave. I'd never be allowed to keep two men in my room at the same time. In that case I'd have to get rid of one. It would give me the chance to set the tone for the Season by freeing the first slave. It might start a trend."

_Free! _His Actuarian blood was pounding in his ears. Betting and freedom? How could things go better? He smiled as he looked back down at the Racing Pages.

"It's all good!"

RB

The Uppertonian Hippodrome was the largest sporting venue in the known world. Its completion had thrown Go City into a turmoil that was finally redressed by a failed barbarian invasion. The litter and its escorts trotted up a wide ramp lined with equine statues.

"The preparations box." Bricken asked an attendant. They followed him around until they reached a set of doors large enough to permit a litter. The litter went through and was set down by its bearers. Bricken drew the curtains back and lifted Bonya. Everyone pretended not to notice when his hand cupped her backside as he set her feet on the cool marble floor.

Bonya looked down at Ronman as he emerged. "Only ladies and their altered servants are permitted past this point." He followed her eyes and went to open the double doors. She swept grandly by and he followed.

Ronman was reminded of the Great Bridal Festival, the day of the year when all marriages were performed for members of the Fearless Ferret Tribe. All of the young women were wearing white, just like at home. They all were talking excitedly about a dozen topics, but mainly about boys, again just like home. The only real difference he noticed was that none of the girls was obviously pregnant.

A willowy strawberry blond came over. "Bonya, darling, it's so good to see you." They kissed each other on the cheek. _Like two mountain vipers testing each other. _"I see you have a new toy boy."

"Well, there are always things that need lifting." Insincere laughter tinkled from both sets of full lips. "Gimmea, this is Ronman."

Remembering his etiquette training he gave a bow. "I am from…"

"Seen but not heard." Bonya stressed through clinched teeth. "He's from the uncouth North. Got him yesterday."

"And already recovered from his alteration." Cool brown eyes lingered on the still bright paint on Ronman's stomach. "They recover so quickly, those Northmen. I trust you didn't get Bricken altered as well? It would be a shame to change that dear, sweet, dumb and big boy."

"He's quite the same." Bonya hid her suspicion poorly. "So, have I missed any races?"

"Silly, they don't start for another hour. But I suspect you know that." Gimmea turned slowly, all the while looking below Ronman's waistline. As Abel had taught, Ronman thought about tubercular crones. "You have plenty of time to get ready."

Getting ready consisted of lounging on a tables, stripped to the waist, while slave girls rubbed sweet smelling oils onto noble backs. Ronman stood with the other castratos (?) along the wall. After a while the girls turned over without bothering to cover up. Bonya smirked.

"You might have a live one there, Gimmea."

The man servant beside Ronman tried to blend into the wall. He had clearly forgotten his lessons in distracting himself from the sights. Sweat beaded on his face. "It's not what you think at all, my lady! I, I, it's a loaf of bread! I've been stealing food again!"

"So you're 'stealing' again?" Gimmea's voice was sharp, promising no mercy. "Guards!" A pair of rather brawny women in tight leather armor grabbed the slim man by his arms and dragged him from the room as he whimpered.

"Take him to the Chop Shop; admitted repeat offender. And tell them to check and see if anything has grown back." The scream was more effective than a thousand lessons. "You try to be nice and they just run all over you."

"I've always believed that you can't slack on discipline." Bonya opened one eye to make sure Ronman was unmoved as he watched the slave girl moisturize her chest. "They need to keep their minds on their assigned tasks."

Trumpets sounded from the great yard. The girls dressed and made their way to the box seats, followed by their servants who carried their wagering purses. They sat, sipped wine, nibbled on dainty treats, and engaged in verbal fencing as fast and as deadly as any swordplay.

"Ah, there's the call for placing the bets for the first race." Gimmea looked lazily up at her second man servant of the day. "Just go bet on something with a frilly name." The pale man could not leave quickly enough.

"Oh, Ronman, do be a dear and make a wager or two for me." Bonya's gave him the eye of a fellow conspirator. He left immediately.

The first set of bets was for public consumption. Ronman had chosen names with Bonya based on childhood memories, popular songs and omens. Some actually had a chance of winning: Ronman explained the odds were as much to encourage people to spread their money across the board as they were a reflection of perceived chances of victory. A fifty to one shot was not necessarily a bad bet.

The second set was the real deal, and had taken most of the money. There were six races. He left exact instructions at the window of how much of any winnings to roll over into the following races. There would be no reason to return until the races were over. Bricken stopped him before he could reenter the box area.

"Remember, a lot is riding on this. Mess up and you'll be riding side saddle yourself."

Bonya gave him the subtlest of glances when he took his position behind the box. None of the other girls paid any more attention to their servants. They were too busy watching the first race's horses make their way to the gate.

"Oh, look I've won already!" Bonya gasped.

"What do you mean?" Gimmea raised an eyebrow.

"My horse, Snarky's Machine, he made it! I knew that he's a long shot, so I also bet on him win or to show, and there he is! I ignored that silly thing about place; a horse is an animal, not a place."

"Bonya, you can read, but comprehension continues to elude you." Her rival sniffed.

Ronman was at the right angle to get a conspiratorial nod. The horses were off and the girls allowed themselves to forget their manners as they cheered their horses on. No boys were allowed in the box, but the boxes to either side were occupied by young noblemen. The girls made sure to jump up and down with excitement, as their viewers were in elevated positions relative to them.

**And the winner is Snarky's Machine!**

There were the usual reactions. Bonya squealed with delight. Other girls feigned disappointment, some convincingly. Gimmea betrayed her true emotions with the way she crumbled her ticket up in her hand.

"My, a little involved, aren't we?" Bonya observed smugly. "Trying to make a little cash?"

"I would never do anything so vulgar." Gimmea snipped. "But my family does breed horses. It hardly does father honor if I cannot pick the winner."

Four more races went by. Bonya won two more, but then seemed to hit a bad streak. She had sent one hundred golden uppertons with Ronman to the windows. It had gotten up to eighteen hundred before Dancing Queen stumbled in the fifth. She made a good show of being unfazed. That lasted until the lull before the sixth and final race when she had her slave escort her to the little ladies room.

"How much am I up?" she whispered.

"On your bets, you've got four hundred; with my bets, five hundred and eighty."

"You mean I'm still under a thousand?"

"No, I mean you have five hundred and eighty."

She stiffened. "Slave, I've had to tear up the last two tickets, but your alteration receipt is still intact."

"I was trying to roll the winnings into a really big score. I should have gone for the pick four, but there were six races. Dancing Queen tripped Fast Track when she fell. I've got one race left to make it up. But don't worry, Shrom sent me a sign."

"Shrom?"

"The Actuarian god of warfare, endless winters and pari-mutuel betting."

"Your sign had better be right or I've got one for you." No one was watching them as she picked up a piece of chalk lying on a rail and used it to mark out the rude part of a bit of graffiti. "Subtle enough, slave?"

"I think I got it." He nodded shakily.

They made it back to the box just in time for the start. The girls tried to follow the breathless announcer as he called the race. Ronman could not control his nervousness. What he was trying to do was so difficult, but then the payoff would be huge. As it was the last race, everyone cheered with abandon.

The mass of horses came charging around the final turn and headed for the home stretch. For a moment Ronman could see the Chop Shop sign in his immediate future. Then the announced revealed his fate.

**And at the wire we have Psycho Killer, Qu'est-ce que c'est, Fa fa fa fa fa far better, Run run run run run away!**

"Looks like you won the last race, Bonya." The strawberry blond snorted. "And at fifteen to one."

"It's new sandal money. Slave, take this to the window." Bonya made a show of almost dropping the ticket. Ronman noticed how her eyes stayed glued to it. She used the excuse of her father expecting her for dinner to leave quickly. In the carriage she tossed coins up in the air from a small chest.

"Looks like it was up to me to save the day. Since I did, I guess you can keep your nearest and dearest for a while longer. After all, I did get a fifteen to one shot! And how close did you come on that last race?"

"Not close…"

"I thought so."

"…I won. A superfecta; calling the first, second, third and fourth place finishers. When I saw the names I knew Shrom had sent me a sign. I bet all 180 golden uppertons on it. The odds were good."

"Where's the money?" Bonya asked crossly.

Ronman tossed her the ticket. "You'll have to send a wagon or two for it. The odds were a thousand to one."

Bonya's perfect chest caught. "A t-thousand to one? You mean I won…"

"I mean to say you won 186,000 golden uppertons today."

"Ronnie!" The girl threw her arms around Ronman. "You know that I've always liked you, right?"

"And the constant threats of castration?"

"Just a tease, Ronnie. I never would do anything like that to you. Now, let's get home."

Bonya was indeed an excellent actress where her parents were concerned. She carried on about the day, the races, the boys in the boxes around them, everything but the money. Bricken carried the chest to her room during the distraction. Shortly after that, Bonya excused herself and went upstairs. Of course Ronman went with her.

"You'll stay here and guard the chest." Bonya checked her hair in the mirror. "Bricken will escort me to dinner. That is a bodyguard's duty. But don't worry; you'll have your reward." The look in her eye gave him a glimmer of hope.

Hours went by. At last his mistress entered, followed by two female servants. One set a tray of food down on a stool. The other carried a pile of bedding, which she set on the foot of her mistress' bed.

"Here you go, Ronnie." Bonya said. "Leftovers from the family table. And I made sure that none of it came off of someone's plate!"

"Er, thanks." He said slowly.

"What is our food not good enough for you?" She put her hands on her hips and gave him a threatening stare.

"No, it looks great!" Indeed after a day of only a stray ort or so from the trays carried to Bonya the full plate looked and smelled wonderful. "I just…"

"Oh, I think I know what you mean." Bonya gave him a sly smile. She went behind a screen and began to undress. It was a pretty sight, Ronman had to admit. In a few minutes she came out wearing a night gown just thick enough for the cool spring night. The girl came to the foot of the bed where Ronman had remained. With a smile she put her hand of the bedding left by the servant and pushed it onto the floor.

"My night servant usually sleeps on a stool against the wall, so she would wake up at my first call. You get to sleep at the foot of the bed…on real bedding. These come from the House Steward's room."

"You're too kind, Mistress."

"Yes, heart warming, isn't it?" Her smile revealed her complete oblivion. "Do be a dear and put out the candles, Ronnie."

He walked around blowing out candles as Bonya got under her sleeping furs. Afterwards he made a little pallet for himself in the dark. Bonya considered her gift a suitable reward. They did cushion the floor, and with the old Fire Wolf robe he was plenty warm, but it was not remotely what they had discussed that morning.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp kick to his head.

"Owww!"

"Oh, sorry, Ronman. I thought you'd be on the stool over there." Bricken's apology lacked any sincerity. Without waiting for a reply he walked past, one large foot finding the edge of a hand and grinding ever so slightly.

Ronman listened as furs moved, lifted for the bodyguard. He heard little else. _Do all girls in Uppertonia get that lesson? _Some time later he heard a long low coo and Bricken got out of the bed, putting his tunic back on. This time Ronman pressed himself against the footboard and Bricken missed him as he went out.

The day had been a total disappointment. His hoped for freedom had eluded him, and he still did not know enough of the household or city to make a bid for escape. Perhaps he could talk with Bonya tomorrow. Something told him it was vital to leave as soon as possible, Bricken did not seem to take kindly to his presence.

Much later that night the door opened again. At first he thought it was Sausage Girl, but then he recognized the glorious mane of the shadowy figure. She knelt beside him and put a cool hand to his face. Soft green eyes looked at him with sympathy. When she settled down beside him he reached out. He could feel nothing. Yet every touch of hers brought him comfort. Finally he closed his eyes again, snuggled against her.


	5. Unchained Melody

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: whitem, Isamu, CajunBear73, Sentinel 103, screaming phoenix, Katsumara, Michael Howard, bigherb81, MrDrP, King in Yellow, soulman3, aedan cameron, BlueEyedBrigadier and all those readers who toughed in out through one squirm inducing chapter.

**My lord was determined to secure what was his. Freedom would not be denied, but for both man and mole rat, the trip promised to be forked, and perilous.**

Chapter 4. Unchained Melody

Even though he knew she was only a dream Ronman could not believe his good fortune. From time to time she would hug him to herself and sigh. The sound reminded him of the wind passing through the great fir forests of Actuaria. While his passion stirred, more than anything he felt the desire to hold her, just hold her. For now, she had to hold him.

The morning sun peeked through the curtain and touched Ronman's face. He opened his eyes, somehow hoping for a clearer glimpse of his dream girl. She was fading even before he could look. He caught only one feature; soft green eyes that did not even attempt to hide their longing.

He could tell by the silence that Bonya was still soundly asleep. With nothing else to do he rolled over to face the footboard. Sleep returned.

_I'm getting civilized. _

RB

"Wake up, slave."

Bonya's voice cut through to the boy's brain. Servants attended Bonya as she sat at her makeup table.

"You're awake, good. We have a lot to do today." She ran her fingers through her hair before giving it a toss.

"I thought we were going back to the track."

"Change in plans." Bonya walked over to the window. The skies were gray. "It's raining. Not a storm, mind you, but you'd get soaked within an hour. The only people going today are going to watch the horses. It's okay; we have other things to do."

_Like talk about my freedom. _Before he could say anything a plate of bread and dried fruit was handed to him. Bonya went down for breakfast with her family. Some time later a heavy hand knocked on the door. Bricken stood there with a piece of flat bread folded around slices of savory meat. It smelled divine. The blond giant smiled as the smaller blond drooled.

"Guards get meat." Bricken took a big bite out of his meal. As he chewed he brought up his other hand. It held a smaller version of his breakfast.

"Thanks!" Ronman took a delightful bite out of his unexpected meal.

"No problem." The bodyguard smiled around another mouthful. "I just wanted to make up for last night. I shouldn't have kicked you that hard. I wasn't expected her to put you at the foot of the bed. I figured you'd be by the water closet."

"The what?"

"Sorry, I forgot. A barbarian wouldn't know. Anyway, if I didn't mean to kick you, I did mean the bit with the hand. You were out of your place. If you want to get along in Uppertonia, you'd better become aware of place."

"Learn, heh heh, right." Ronman finished his treat.

"Good. I've got to go fetch Lady Bonya. Meet us in the courtyard. Bring her purse."

The barbarian boy had plenty to think about as he hefted the heavy bag and walked down the stairs to the courtyard.

_First they promise, then they lie. They threaten, then tease, then scare then love. More threats, more promises, a hug, then leftovers, a pallet and a kick to the head. _

"Man, civilization is so complicated!"

RB

Because of the rain Bonya took a carriage. Ronman sat on the bench across from her while Bricken rode on a trundle seat in the back. Bonya slid the window shut so they could talk. She started.

"I've been thinking about your freedom. We're going to have to scratch the original plan."

He struggled to keep his voice level. "Why?"

"I was talking to the girls yesterday when you were getting my winnings. This is the Year of the Tortoise. It's a time for honoring traditions, not starting trends. Just setting you free would be seen as tacky."

"I've never been fashionable." Ronman shrugged.

"Well I always am." The girl retorted. She tilted her head, her smile was sly. "But tradition provides a way. Any slave can purchase their freedom at ten times the original purchase price. But it has to be money they either earned or won: no gifts.

"So, tomorrow we go to the track. On a whim I give you your own wager money for the two upperton window. You just have to increase it by a factor of twenty-two and there you are free!"

"Turn two into forty-two? Sounds easy enough." Optimism returned to Ronman.

"See? It's practically a gift! No heroism, no long and loyal service, just you doing what comes naturally for an Actuarian. How fair is that?"

"Ronman is all about fairness."

"Good. And since I'm willing to do that for you, maybe you could find it in that wild heart to do a teensy-weensy favor for me. Please, Ronnie?" She batted her eyes and smiled.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to pick the winners for the remainder of the meet. It's just sixteen days, six races a day. Just ninety-six little races! Could you do it for me, please, Ronnie?"

Ronman picked up the Racing Forum. His voice was uncertain. "I can, but Bonya, sixteen days is a long time. Things change: odds change; track conditions change, horses and riders get scratched."

Her face clouded. "Can you give me the names or not?"

"Uh, sure."

"Oh thanks, Ronnie!" She hugged him as fiercely as she had the day before. "Now, just jot them all down while we go to the Hippodrome."

Ronman looked up from the Forum in confusion. "The Hippodrome? I thought…"

"We aren't going to the track." Bonnie waved yesterday's ticket, her smile enormous. "We're going to the window. A wagon will meet us there."

It took a long time to load the money. Instead of coin the track paid in gold bars. A full thousand bars in fifty strong boxes went into the wagon and carriage. After the last box was laid in the floor of the carriage Bonya climbed in and giggled as she put her feet upon it. She leaned out the window and called to the driver.

"Take us to the Mall of the Gods!"

RB

Actuarians gathered on mountaintops to call upon Shrom on the eve of battle. For more mundane concerns one went to Shaman Katz, whose strange potions would send him to the spirit plane, from which he would return with cryptic advice and a bit of an appetite. Ronman had heard his father and others talk about how civilized folk imprisoned their gods in great stone buildings. It had seemed a ridiculous, a tall tale for gullible children. Now here he was at the Mall of the Gods.

They drove into a huge courtyard. Grand temples of every size and description called to the faithful, the curious and the desperate. Priests paraded, acolytes scurried about, pilgrims gawked and penitents wailed.

The carriage stopped at a grand temple trimmed in gold. The god was of magnificent build, the tunic torn open to expose rippled muscles. They had used pure gold for the idol's hair. Bonya smiled at Ronman's expression.

"You should see the statue inside, it doesn't have any clothes. But you can't: Fabio, the God of Male Perfection, does not permit castratos in his presence. It'll take time to deposit my money, so why don't you just walk around for a while."

Bonya knocked on the golden doors and spoke with the attending priest. They opened wide for the wagons. Bricken gave Ronman a waved as he entered the temple area. With nothing else to do for a while, the Actuarian decided to take Bonya up on her offer. Curious, Ronman walked over to a directory.

"Let's see, gods of love, gods of health and longevity, gods of success…here we are! gods of war."

The gods of war temples were on the street intersecting to gods of order and politics. He passed temples of the hearth and home on his way to the temples of death and destruction.

"Going somewhere, slave?"

He turned to the direction the familiar voice came from. A slender strawberry blond came out from behind a column of the façade for the temple of the God of Snap Decisions.

"Oh uh hi, Gimmea."

"That's Lady Gimmea, slave." Gimmea corrected him, but none too harshly. "Are you on an errand for your mistress?"

"Nah, she's doing business at the Temple of Fabio. I'm on my own for now."

"Fabio?" Gimmea smirked. "I would've thought she'd be at the Temple of Sn'vel, the God of Unabashed Social Climbing. Where are you off to?"

"To see the gods of war."

"Oh, that's a big street. Everyone's there: from Sly Foxx, Goddess of Clever Strategy, to Dash E'Lan, the God of Mindless Slaughter. Would you like to take a little side trip first?"

The meaning in her eyes was unmistakable, but Ronman had not forgotten the events in the ready room yesterday. Gimmea caught his suspicious look and gave him a friendly smile. "Don't worry. I know a place where no one goes, at least at this time of year."

He assumed she meant a god of the harvest or winter but she led him to a large temple painted in white and pink pastels. Gimmea went to the door.

"The Temple of Pacifica, Goddess of World Peace." Gimmea answered Ronman's unspoken question. "No one ever comes here…expect at Pageant Time."

The door opened soundlessly and they stepped in. Black marble floors were cool under their feet. For an unused temple it was enormous and well maintained.

"If no one ever comes here, why is it so big?"

"You can't have a small temple for world peace; people would think we're warmongers! And every year this is the site of the Miss Upperton Pageant. The girls from all the noblest houses come to exhibit their beauty, showcase their talents, and to pray for world peace.

"This year I'll win the title! Bonya will know the bitter taste of defeat, made all the worse with the knowledge of her family's earlier victories!" Her white gown, trimmed with gold, seemed to float about her as they walked up the steps and onto the large stage. She came up to the monument of Pacifica. At its base a statue of a boy and a girl stood upon the bottom of a pile of discarded arms and armor. Each had one arm around the other, and other arm reached out to the viewer. Behind them the mountain of war gear was topped by Pacifica herself, with her imploring eyes and outstretched arms.

Gimmea sighed. "The Pageant winner represents Uppertonia at diplomatic functions and festivals and grand openings. But in my grandmother's time she had an additional duty." She climbed up and reclined against the children. "She would stand here and the bravest warrior of Uppertonia would come onstage dressed as Dash E'Lan. They would then couple right here: the conquest of War by Peace."

She raised one leg onto a helmet. One hand gathered her skirt while the other undid her loin cloth.

"So, barbarian, want to play god?"

"Abooyah!" Steps shaped like shields took him to his prize. He had no trouble with his belt this time. Gimmea's look was approving.

"I knew that's what Bonya saw you as…a hunk of meat." She breathed as she nibbled his ear. Ronman pressed his attack with a verve and vigor that would have met with any war god's approval. It definitely met with Gimmea's.

"Oh, gods!" Gimmea's look of delight took on a slight air of concern. "This gown is new, and very expensive. Could you be a dear and help me take it off so we don't tear or stain it?" His late night training at the Chop Shop had vastly improved Ronman's coordination, at least where love was concerned. He was able to take her dress off without losing track of the business at hand.

"Just put it somewhere." The blond ordered she hugged him tightly to her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Ronman had one arm resting on a marble arm, he needed the extra balance. No one saw where he hurled the dress. He braced himself on the second statue's arm to complete his conquest.

"Ronman? Where are you, slave?" the voice had somehow carried into the temple. Ronman stepped away and pulled up his loin cloth and breeches. Gimmea sighed deeply as she brought a hand up to her chest.

"Someone's calling you. There's a side door over there. You better take it; your mistress would never believe a barbarian would ever go into this temple. I'll…just stand here and recover for a bit."

Bonya put her hands on her hips. "Now where is that slave? I looked in the temples of freedom and justice…talk about losers! If he's at the Temple of Equality he's in big trouble."

"Mistress?" Ronman saw Bonya and Bricken walk just past the Temple of Pacifica. "I was at the Temple of Dash E'Lan. What a bon-diggoty god!"

"I should have known, you boys and your war gods. Come, slave, it's getting late. We have a couple more places to go."

RB

Inside the Temple of World Peace Gimmea had recovered her balance. _Now for my dress. _She looked to her left, no dress. A glance to the right was just a futile. It was not in front of her either. _If he didn't throw it to the left, right or behind him, where did the fool toss…_

White trimmed with gold rested in Pacifica's arms, a good twenty feet above her. The best she could hope to do was get within about ten feet by climbing. Gimmea's jaw tightened with rage.

"You stupid barbarian!" she shouted.

"Wha, is someone there?" A drowsy voice called out in surprise from a hallway. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone. I'll be right out."

Panic gripped Gimmea as she saw everything falling apart. Then she hit upon a scheme; a desperate one no doubt, but it was all she could think of at the moment.

RB

Ronman followed Bonya and Bricken under the awning running in front of the various temples when they saw the crowd rushing past them, heedless of the rain.

"What's going on?" Bonya had Bricken ask someone. It was not proper for a lady to get excited in public.

"There's something going on at the Temple of World Peace!" a man shouted before rejoining the throng.

Bonya hid her curiosity fairly well. "Well, we aren't that far away."

Being nobility, the House of Yan had a box seat in the Temple (for Pageant time, of course). It gave them a perfect view of the stage.

"Scheming tramp." Bonya muttered. "But you've got to hand it to her, coming to the Temple to pray for World Peace a full month before the Pageant. But donating her clothes to charity?"

Gimmea knelt before the statue of Pacifica, clad only in her loin cloth. From time to time she raised her arms towards the goddess, causing a stir among the admiring audience. Bricken made sure Bonya could not hear him and turned to Ronman.

"I'd like to hit that again."

_Yeah, it's not that bad._

RB

Ruthless checked in the mirror once again. The blush on his cheeks helped accent his incisors. Judicious amounts of eye liner made his eyes appear as unplumbed pits of darkness. Anyone who did not know better would think he had been spawned in some truly strange region of the Abyss.

And he had another trick. He pulled the ratty Fire Wolf fur over his head. The effect was of a great hooded cloak. A spark striker rested in his right paw. When he came through the trap door his audience would be in for a surprise.

Alien syllables filtered in from above. Ruthless thought about his escape while he listened. Thurgo promised that after this night, maybe one more, he would correct his circle. Once that was done he could summon actual demons. Once Thrugo had them the NSTMR would be redundant. Perhaps the next step for Ruthless would be freedom.

Pretty as those words sounded Thurgo has taken no oath. Everyone knew you never trust a wizard without an oath. Ruthless was determined to get that oath or Thurgo would learn just how relentless an enemy a Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat could be.

He stepped onto the platform as the last words crackled in the air. Ruthless could feel the power. The trap door came down and he scampered onto it. Darkness greeted him, darkness so deep that it prevented the assembly from seeing the light from the basement from which he emerged. Next came a great flash of light. Ruthless opened his eyes and stepped into character.

Thrugo put on his fiercest face as he stood at the edge of the circle. His guests were properly impressed. The ancient robe surprised him; Ruthless knew how to make an entrance.

"Demon!" The wizard called out grandly. "I have summoned you from the Abyss, and bound you within this circle of warding. Until I release you, you will do my bidding! What is your name, Demon?"

"My name?" Ruthless deep voice startled a few of the visitors. "I am FLICKERFOOT!"

He had the business end of the striker resting on the outside of his cloak. One spark and flames enveloped the fur. It was most impressive.

One of the older wizards had been dozing until this moment. Rheumy eyes widened at the sight before him. "Fire Demon!" apparently the wizard specialized in elemental magic; a jet of water flew from his staff and doused the cloak. The wizards laughed heartily as the smoldering NSTMR stood there growling. No one noticed what was happening.

Water dripped from the cloak and flowed along the floor. It reached a curious symbol: a key within a circle. During one of his all night drawing sessions Thurgo had made a simple error. He had the key's teeth facing east; in effect locking the gate shut between the worlds. The chalk faded at the water's touch, breaking the circle. After that it obliterated the teeth.

Every hair on the Fire Wolf cloak stood on end as did Ruthless' whiskers. Pink paws carried him out of the circle as its symbols glowed with a sickly green light. An enormous, hideous form emerged to sweep up the stunned wizards in its massive hands. All but the old wizard, who uttered a word of recall without thinking.

Taking a deep breath, Ruthless turned to face the demon; unwilling to die a coward. But instead of attacking the bat-like face grinned.

"Ruthless!" Its voice shook the room. "So you're on stage now?"

"Hello, Flickerfoot." He shrugged at his old choreographer. "You know how it is."

"Don't I ever! Once the bug bites you nothing can exorcise the fever." The demon brought the struggling wizards up to his terrifying face. "Give me a minute, Ruthless.

"Thurgo, you don't open the door and break the seal like that."

"I didn't!" He squealed.

"Still, your house, your lumps. Ah, I love wizards…you guys put on the best light shows! Too bad you never last long. Whippersnapper is waiting for you; it'll tell you what I expect." The wizards vanished in a puff of oily smoke.

"So they're doomed." Ruthless could not help but feel a measure of pity for the now former master.

"Oh, no! Wizards don't die in the Abyss, they get too full of themselves. Within a week they begin to make demands. They want their names on the marquee, private dressing rooms, and a cut of the gate. I just dump them off at the nearest parallel universe, one where their magic can't get them back. Can't have people know we don't kill them without a good reason."

Flickerfoot flexed his hands and nodded to Ruthless. "Thanks for using my name within the circle; it alerted me to my chance."

"You're welcome. Perhaps you can return the favor. My friend, Ronman, was sold in the Flesh Pits by Frugal Lucre. If you could tell me who bought him…"

"Sorry, that's your deepest wish. I can't fulfill that, I'm evil you understand."

"Can't blame a Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat for trying." Ruthless started to leave when he realized Flickerfoot was still there.

"I said I won't tell you who bought Ronman. I didn't say I won't tell you where Lucre is. I've had my eyes on him for years! When he comes down to the Abyss I plan to make him my business manager. The way he can squeeze a penny…"

"I didn't know you used cash down there."

"Hides, gold, or souls, currency is currency. Lucre is on the top floor at Tres Shabee."

"Uppertonia's first rate third rate hotel, of course! Thanks, Flickerfoot!"

"No problem. Well, gotta run…big show tonight. I'll tell the girls you said 'hi'."

Now alone Ruthless rolled up his fur cloak and began searching the room for weapons. Once armed, Ronman's best friend set off on his quest.

RB

The ride back to Lord Yan's palace was not pleasant. Bonya stormed and fumed.

"Oh, that Gimmea! Undressing like that…it's so humble, so pious, so remember-me-I'm-the-sincere-girl-who-actually-prayed-for-world-peace! It'll cost me plenty! Someday, I'll find a way to make it cost her!"

Ronman had no idea what she was talking about. He let his mind wonder to the sight of Gimmea when she wore even less.

"SLAVE!"

Bonya's snap brought Ronman back with a start. "Y-Yes, Mistress?"

"Do you have my winner's list?" By the look in her eye he was glad he could give the right answer.

"Yes, Mistress, it's right here."

"Good, after today's little spectacle I'm really going to need this." She calmed as she went over the list and compared the names to the odds listed in the Forum. "If I get even half, I'll be set."

Bonya looked up. "Thanks, Ronnie dear. Now, when we get home it will be time for dinner. While I go and spend time with my family, I need you to go pick up my makeup."

"Why don't we do that before we go home?"

"Because it is at home. A slave makes it in a shack out behind the garden. He's supposed to have it all ready. He's certainly had the time! I don't know if he ever leaves that shack!"

He got out of the carriage after Bonya. She walked into the house with Bricken following her. Ronman went the other way. Bonya's direction took Ronman to a small building in the corner of the west wall. Dozens of exotic plants grew in pots while more mundane herbs filled a garden. Ronman smelled clean, healing scents, thought of his cousin Barry and shuddered.

_There but for the furor of Shrom go I. _He knocked. "Hello, Bonya sent me."

The voice behind the door surprised him. It was young, very young. "Tell her I don't have time for one of her perfumes! Come back in a couple of days."

"Dude, I just came for some makeup. She said you'd have it ready."

Latches came undone. The door opened to reveal a dark skinned, pudgy youth of maybe eleven years. He gave Ronman a warm smile. "Hey, I'm Wadelin. What's your name?"

"Ronman the Actuarian. Do you belong to Bonya too?"

"Nah, I'm the property of her sisters: Lonya and Conya." He took a sip of juice from a ceramic mug.

"Sisters? Bonya has Sisters?" Ronman shuddered. "Are they any better than she is?"

"That depends; do you want the Black Death, the Yellow Death, or the Red Death?" The slaves shared a laugh at their mistresses' expense. "Come on, I've got her stuff all ready."

The cabin interior was cluttered. One heavy table was covered with mortars and pestles. Wadelin picked up a box in front of them.

"Rogue, lip gloss, blush, it's all here. Tell Bonya she needs to give me a little more lead time before the next order. Some of these components are hard to get…uh, excuse me."

Wadelin moved over to another table. This one supported an elaborate network of glass tubing and globes. Some globes had small flames under them. Wadelin set a glass under a spigot and turned its tap. Ronman could see him hold his breath as a single drop of silver liquid dripped down into the glass. Quickly he opened a small steel box and pulled out a vial of golden liquid. The glass' contents were added and the vial's liquid turned a sky blue, shot through with sparkles. The alchemist relaxed and grinned.

Ronman was enthused. "Dude, that was amazing! What is it?"

"A potion for Lonya and Conya. It makes the imbiber see what you want them to see. VERY expensive."

The Actuarian leaned against a shelf. He was a tad too hard. In horror he watched a large bottle of pink liquid topple to the floor. Its contents reeked. "Sorry, dude! My bad! I hope that wasn't too hard to make."

"Don't worry, that one makes the imbiber see what they want to see. It's really cheap: just gin infused with rose petals."

Ronman had what he had been sent for but he was enjoying the company. Besides, he knew Bonya would be a while. "So, what do the sisters need something like that for? Are they ugly?"

"Ugly, only on the inside! It's for the Social Season, I'm sure Bonya's mentioned that." Wadelin held out a mug. "Papaya juice?"

"Thanks." Ronman took the offered mug and sipped. "If she goes on any more about it I might have to add some hemlock to this."

"I know what you mean." His new friend chuckled. "Luckily I'm an alchemist; people don't want us near the house. Something about explosions.

"The potion is for the preliminary of the Social Season: inspection."

"Inspection? I think I heard somebody at the Hippodrome mention that, but I thought they were talking about a boyfriend in the army."

"Not hardly. They were talking about Madame Hatchet, the Virginity Inspector. She determines if the girls are still pure, and thus eligible for the Miss Uppertonia Pageant. It's also makes them more desirable for marriage, it's a big deal."

"I take it that Lonya and Conya don't qualify for white on their own?"

Wadelin snorted. "Please! I don't think there's a square inch on either of them that merits white! Well, maybe hussy white. I've been making this potion for the past five years."

"Five years?"

"Hey, I am a genius." Ronman's blank expression elicited an explanation. "It's a term from the Far South. It means I'm really smart."

"Gotcha. I know Bonya wouldn't pass inspection, is she getting a potion later?"

"No, even if her sisters would share with her, the potion's effects only last long enough for two inspections and Madame Hatchet goes by age. And if you take another dose too soon you see the absolute truth in everyone you look at. That usually drives the imbiber into a murderous rage. Bonya is more traditional: she uses bribery."

"So that's why she needed to win so badly." Ronman drained his mug.

"Yeah, Bonya's always short on money. She really lives up to the spendthrift image. And as expensive as this potion is, bribes still costs more. Not to mention this year she's old enough for the Pageant, that's another bribe. How much did you win for her?"

"The Ronman came to play." He crowed. "She wanted 1,500 and I won her 186,000."

Wadelin spewed his juice. "186…Ronman! Do you have any idea what you've done!?

"I, uh, put her on easy street?"

"And all of us in danger! It isn't called Golden Uppertonia for nothing! Bribery is the key to nearly everything here. It takes five hundred golden uppertons to even be considered in the Pageant."

"Gimmea mentioned something about Bonya's family and the Pageant."

"Lonya and Conya both won, thanks to my potion. But even they had to pony up the bribes to get that far. Now Bonya can buy it outright! Bonya's always hated her sisters, and now she can do something about it. If she gets rid of them, I could be next!"

"No way. Anybody who can do what you can is too valuable to axe."

Calm returned to Wadelin's features. "I should be all right, and you're safe at least through the end of the Meet."

Ronman rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe not. I…gave her my picks for the rest of the Meet."

Wadelin was incredulous. "Why would you do that?"

"Because she asked?"

"You idiot! Now she has no reason to keep you alive! If your picks work out she'll have more money than anyone in Uppertonia except for the king! She'll be able to bribe anyone for anything!" Wadelin slumped into a chair. "And since I spoke with you, she'll suspect me. I am doomed."

Ronman remembered Sausage Girl's warning. "Yep, we're doomed. Unless…Wadelin, do you want to be free?"

RB

Normally a short, stocky pink and utterly naked hairless creature walking the streets of Uppertoni would have been cause for alarm. However for reasons unknown several wizards' towers had collapsed and their more exotic inhabitants now swarmed on the streets. Elves hit the wineries, giving unsolicited (but highly useful) advice. Unicorns pranced about causing all manner of embarrassment. Town criers spread the word, warning all fair skinned women with black hair to stay indoors or risk packs of rampaging dwarves. In this atmosphere Ruthless was inoffensive, even comforting.

He made his way to Tres Shabbe. The pile of soot around back gave him much needed camouflage. He climbed the clinging vines on the west wall. It hid him as well as it concealed the substandard masonry. Ruthless slipped into a sixth story window. Its drunken occupant never saw the shadow that slipped across the floor and into the dumb waiter.

Frugal Lucre lay back on his bed and moaned. He opened an eye to look again. He was so glad he had let her look at him before she started. And he was glad he had not peeked. She could no more look like her drawing of herself than she could do what she portrayed herself doing to him. But the thought of Little Lucre getting attention from both ends of a girl at the same time…

He scribbled a simple note for his servant to carry into the next room where she was waiting.

**More, baby, and a close up!**

While he waited he reflected. The sale had gone very well. If only Heogic had let him 'return' the Rhodiganians. He would have sent them to the markets of the Far South. But he had no regrets: once they left Uppertonia, they would have to stop, take the wheels off his carriage, and place it atop the four tandem treasure wagons.

To celebrate he had splurged: a two course dinner, a full skin of ole vine rot, and an evening of sketch sex. Sure, a guttersnipe would have been much cheaper, but there were health issues, as last month's flare up had reminded him. Any girl able to remotely match what his drawer could sketch would have commanded three times the gold, plus a real dinner with good wine.

"Constantly control costs." He quoted from the Book of Martin.

The gasp in the next room made his toes curl. He closed his eyes as he heard footsteps. Instead of parchment in his hand, he felt a dagger at his throat.

"Booyah." Ruthless smiled. "Don't worry, the guard is out cold and I sent the girl away. You don't have to worry about how to get out of tipping her. I even got your last sketch for you…it's an amazing finish."

"Ruthless, good to see ya. You got away, I guess?"

"Not so much as my old 'master' is now someone else's performing pet. Who bought Ronman?"

"You know that's a matter of public record. At the same time, I'm bound by client confidentiality."

"The only thing you're bound to do is turn a profit!" Ruthless hissed, showing his teeth to best effect. "Now, let's talk about a short term loan so that I can buy my boy back."

Ruthless sheathed the dagger as he spoke. Lucre took advantage of the momentary distraction to spring out of the bed. A leap carried him through the unlatched shutters and out the window. It was not a suicidal move. Each room had an awning. He would land on it, lower himself onto the next one, and repeat five more times. This was not the first time he had escaped from a hotel.

Unfortunately Lucre had forgotten the hotel owner was a fellow Smartyian. He tore through the flimsy fabric and plunged though it and the others. Lucre hit the cobblestones face first.

Ruthless looked out the window at the still form on the street. "At least you've got a job waiting for you, and it's management."

RB

A blond slave walked the stairs of Lord Yan's house on the way to his mistress' room. Ronman held Bonya's makeup box in his hands. A very small vial was in his belt, along with a small bag. Wadeline had wanted to wait a few days, but bowed to Ronman's outlining how, odds were, Bonya would act very soon, so it was best to be ready now.

Bricken opened the door to Bonya's room. He looked Ronman over in a cold professional manner. Bonya was at her table brushing her hair.

"You have it, slave?"

"Right here, Mistress." Ronman set the box on the table. The girl touched it and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Ronman rose to the prompt.

"Nothing, no, no, it's huge! Too huge for a simple girl like me, a girl who only wants to follow in her sisters' footsteps as Miss Uppertonia." The lady looked up with eyes alight with melodramatic angst. "Only today I discovered that my own dear father seeks to overthrow the king! Mother has known but kept silent, making her a co-conspirator. My sisters…" she growled the last word, "have been in on it from the beginning. They've even enlisted their alchemist to brew the poison with which to kill the Royal Family.

"How could I have been so blind, slave? My father's meeting with other nobility, his work to soothe tensions between the wealthy and the labor guilds? The acts of charity? What else could they be but treachery? Yet I let my love for my family blind me!"

_So, her talent is acting. _Ronman waited, needing to know what came next before he made a move.

"But the events of the past days finally opened my eyes. I thought it was just a shopping spree, but father's purchases were so exact. Large, powerful warriors from Big Daddy's horde: the nucleus of a bodyguard! And to guide his coup he needed a man of subtle vision; a keen mind able to calculate the odds."

She turned her face to him slowly. Her eyes burned with accusation.

"An Actuarian."

Despite his preparedness for treachery Ronman stepped back in surprise. His hand pressed against his belt and he could feel the vial break. Wadelin had promised this would initiate his plan. The alchemist had refused to tell Ronman what it entailed. Ronman only hoped the help would arrive in time.

Blue green eyes failed to match the distress in her voice. "I must decide: do I side with my family? That would be treason! Yet if I do my duty and report the conspiracy, they will all be executed! I would become head of the house, but the King would seize half of everything unless I could pay a fine, a fine of 75,000 golden uppertons! Where would a girl like me come up with that kind of money? Oh, that's right; it's at the Temple of Fabio. I guess all I have to do now is to unmask the traitors. Bricken…"

The guard came though the door, spear in hand. "Yes, Mistress?"

"This slave conspired with my family against our King! When I confronted him, he tried to kill me."

"Kill you? Kill you with what?" the Actuarian demanded.

Bonya produced a dagger from a drawer. "With this! Luckily big, brave Bricken pinned you to the mantle with his spear, where you confessed everything as you died."

The leaf-bladed spear head pressed at this throat. There was no sign of help coming yet. Ronman had to think fast.

"Oh, yeah, through the throat. Shoulda known you'd take the easy way."

Bricken stopped. "What do you mean barbarian?"

"Kill him, Bricken!" Bonya's order went ignored.

"I mean you take the throat, naked, unprotected. Anybody can do that." Ronman had Bricken's attention so he went on, all the while his left hand slid down to his belt.

"Now Go City had spearmen! They would plunge their spears right into your heart. Right between the ribs. Not as messy and the victim lives longer, and can even talk the whole time they're dying. How can anyone confess with a spear in their throat?"

"Who cares? Bricken, kill him NOW!"

"I'm on it!" Bricken snapped. "Just hold still, slave. I can thrust a spear as good as anybody. Just ask Bonya."

Bonya gasped. "Just what are you implying? Now kill him!"

The spear went down from Ronman's neck to settle at chest level. Bricken drew it back. As he made the motion Ronman's hand reached behind his belt and pulled out the bag. Before the guard could strike the bag hit him in the face. A black mist covered his face and he fell to the floor.

Wolf-like senses told Ronman to turn. He caught Bonya's arm as it brought the dagger down. The girl struggled in his arms.

"Idiot, let me go! You know you're doomed, you can't even testify against me unless asked to do so by another noble! I'll tell Dad you attacked me after taking down Bricken. You'll be impaled!"

"Maybe." And the look in his eyes filled Bonya with fear. "But you'll get your punishment first."

Ronman was Actuarian: wild, honest and free. He had no tolerance for the habit civilized people called treachery. Bonya had sought to kill him, his new friend, even her own family. Yet she was helpless now, and his Actuarian code of chivalry would not allow him to harm her. Still, she had to pay.

Before Bonya could scream she was falling. She landed face down across the barbarian's knees as he sat down on the edge of her bed. "Wha…" she gasped.

An enraged Ronman threw her skirt over her back. He undid the cute bow and threw the satin loincloth aside. Another man would have been struck by the round, perfectly tanned posterior that quivered in helpless struggle before him. Ronman's rage saw him through.

"I've never…" Bonya sputtered. Before she could complete her protest, Ronman brought down his large strong hand.

(Smack!) "Maybe that's your problem! (Smack!) You've needed a little discipline! (Smack!) You've been (Smack!) a very (Smack!) naughty (Smack!) girl! (Smack!)

Looking down at the floor Bonya snarled. No one had ever dared do anything remotely like this to her before. Not her parents, not her nannies or tutors. Never had anyone done something so, so,

_So incredibly mind blowing, earth rocking, and thigh quivering HOT!_

This time the quivering was not from anger. "Yes! Yes! You Actuarian disciplinarian. I have been a very, very naughty girl!"

She twisted around and slammed the shocked boy onto his back. Poorly made slave clothes were no match for lusty aristocratic fingers. She threw herself on him, pleading between each savage kiss.

"Help me to be good, Ronman! I need a large, strong hand to guide me. To correct me! Discipline me!"

Seldom is the call of life stronger than when death has just been averted. The call stirred Ronman much to his surprise and Bonya's delight. She got down on her hands and knees.

"Time for Teacher."

Anger faded from the Actuarian as he once again plumbed the Sweet Mystery of Life. And such a mystery, so many women, and all of them were so different. Tara had been sweet. Zita loved with fire. Sausage Girl had been leisurely yet intense. Gimmea had been elegant. But Bonya was almost frantic as for the first time she coupled without thought to controlling the situation. She had found what she had always wanted and was determined to claim it, or perhaps to be claimed by it.

"My hair." She panted. "Hold me by my hair!"

The request touched Ronman with its echoes of his homeland. _I didn't know civilized girls could be so tender. _He took his hands off of her hips and grasped her hair. She moaned and thrashed against him. A low sound started in her throat.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Before either lover could make a move to disentangle the door opened to admit two women. They were tall and even more statuesque than Bonya. One had long wavy brown hair. The other was blond. They entered, dressed in the sheerest of gowns. Bonya glared at them as they took a position on either side of the bed.

"Lonya! Conya! It's…"

"Please, don't say 'It's not what you think.'" The brunette laughed. The blond joined in. "I think it's exactly what we think."

The blond put on hand on Ronman's chest and pushed him back a bit, then a little bit more, and then a little bit more. Her eyes grew huge as the distance grew with no end in sight. "No, Conya, it's much, much more than we thought, or could have hoped for."

"Stop!" Bonya thrust herself back to where her buttocks touched Romans's stomach. "He's mine!"

"Of course he is." Lonya said reasonably. "But sisters should share. Wadelin said you had a new toy. We just wanted to play with…it."

"I get to go first." The youngest sister moaned as she resumed movement.

"Sure," nodded Conya, "but how about a toast first? Slave!"

The door opened again and Wadelin entered with a tray bearing a crystal decanter and three delicate crystal glasses. There was also a ceramic mug.

"Pour the wine, slave." Conya ordered. The elder sisters took their glasses and pressed Bonya upon her. None of them noticed the residue at the bottom of the decanter. Ronman's mug held ale. He turned it up, knowing he would need the liquid.

Wadelin bowed. "With your permission I will leave now, Mistresses. I'll take your other order to Lonya's room." Only Ronman saw his wink.

"Lock that door!" Bonya snapped with some of her old authority. Next she looked over her shoulder at Ronman. "Please, sir, I'd like some more."

The Actuarian code impelled Ronman to honor her request. In a few minutes the noises started in her throat again. Lonya grabbed a pillow and pressed it to her sister's face. Bonya took it in her arms. The sounds coming from her reminded Ronman of Dire Wolves howling in the distance.

She looked up as she pulled away and lay down. "I'm gonna rest a bit. Wake me for my next turn."

Lonya and Conya looked at their sister as she slept, and then at each other. "Like she'd know what to do with him." Conya sneered.

Flimsy gowns floated to the floor. Lonya was first to touch Ronman. "Time to play with the big girls."

It took all of Ronman's youthful enthusiasm and barbarian stamina to survive. Lonya and Conya were close in age, and had clearly shared their toys in the past. Arms, legs, lips, all seemed to come from every direction. It was like he was Shrom in the epic tussel with the Eastern goddess Domea, who had multiple everything.

Just as it seemed he would collapse first Lonya, and then Conya softly cried out in joy and slumped back onto the sleeping furs. The three sisters were asleep, a lovely assembly of nubile flesh. In a moment there was a knock at the door.

"Are they asleep?" It was Wadelin on the outside.

"Yeah, let me get the door." Ronman carefully climbed over the sleeping girls and then fell onto the floor when his knees buckled. Finally he made his wobbly way to the door. He let Wadelin in. the youth had a pair of packs and a bundle of clothes.

"Thanks." Ronman pulled on the new breeches, shirt and boots.

"We don't want to look like slaves." Wadelin shifted his pack "I'm just worried about getting over the wall. We can't just walk through the gate. I wish we had another way out."

The soft grinding of stone upon stone made them both jump. A statue holding a torch slid forward to reveal a passageway. Out stepped a figure wrapped in a gray fur cloak. Pink skin gave him away.

Ronman stopped Wadelin before he could throw another one of his bags. "Wait! He's a friend!"

Ruthless let the hood fall back, gazing at the unconscious figures on the bed and on the floor. "Looks like I missed the party…literally and figuratively. How did you do it, Ronman?"

"The nudity was all me." The barbarian boy bragged. "But my man Wadelin here came up with the knockout punch."

"Good one, Ronman." Wadelin's grin faded when blinked at him. "Don't you understand puns?"

Ruthless shook his head. "We've covered irony, foreshadowing, and jinx, but we've passed on word play."

The NSTMR moved to the bed. "The man who sold us is dead. My master is now part of a light show. What vengeance are we going to work on your masters?" He touched his dagger when Ronman looked at Wadelin.

"Wadelin, how long will they sleep?" Ronman started when Bricken started snoring.

The youth held up the bag in his hand. "Until they're hit by sunlight. These spores come from a fungus that only grows on the inside of coffin lids. It works on contact, or after physical release when mixed with alcohol. Sunlight's the only antidote. They'd sleep through fire and flood."

"Then they'd sleep through a little moving around and a little clanking." Ronman's smile was unsettling. "I have a plan."

RB

Sunlight spilled into the room, stirring Lonya, Conya, Bonya and Bricken into wakefulness. The three girls realized they were still in Bonya's bed, still naked, and covered with the signs of extended and enthusiastic love making. They were chained together in a circle around Bricken, who had his morning groove on. The mood vanished when they saw who else was in the room.

The girls' mother was in the floor, passed out by the curtains she had drawn herself. Their father stood glowering at them at the foot of the bed. Standing beside him, her stern face implacable and (now) immune to bribery, was Madame Hatchet, the Virginity Inspector.

RB

Three figures walked over the hill and away from Golden Uppertonia. The ancient passage Ruthless had memorized from Thrugo's maps had taken them from Lord Yan's house to a point outside the city walls.

Ruthless sighed "Those maps were great. Under other circumstances I'd say let's stay and rob Uppertonia blind. But you just don't hang around a place when so many wizards go missing at one time."

Smoke poured from spots around the city. They could see a dragon wrapped around the top of one tower. War horns sounded as the garrison stirred.

"So, where are we going?" Ruthless asked.

"We've seen Uppertonia, how about we go on down the line to Middletonia?" Ronman smiled. "Wanna come with us, Wadelin?"

The dusky youth returned the others' smiles. "Sure. I plan to go back to the Far South someday, but I was too young to remember my trip up here. Might as well take the scenic route."

A cheerful sunrise greeted the three as they went south.


	6. Queen of Hair and Darkness

Thanks to Isamu, King in Yellow, CajunBear73, Stubbs101, Wanderer3, Sentinel103, bigherb81, King of Mantheren, screaming phoenix, MrDrP, Soth11, aedan cameron, soulman3, Yankee Bard, BlueEyedBrigadier and all of you who saw our heroes not exactly fight their way to freedom.

**Great was the price Golden Uppertonia paid for enslaving my master and his companion. Once he discovered who had destroyed half his city, Uppertonia's King abolished slavery. The Miss Uppertonia Pageant was held early to atone to Pacifica, complete with the discontinued final ceremony. Gimmea won, but the priests determined her performance to be less than virginal. Indeed, not until the twelfth runner-up did they feel a true virginity sacrifice had been made. As for Ronman and his companions, there were new worlds to conquer. **

Chapter 5. Queen of Hair and Darkness

For all the soldiers in the room there was little noise. Hobnails ground against the marble floor as men walked. Mail rustled underneath purple surcoats. Now and then a spear butt clinked on the floor. Normally brash voices were subdued. The men of Middletonia's Civic Guard knew how to behave at a crime scene.

Their commander turned with a low hum in his throat. Even among these strong men he stood out. He was muscular all the way down to his toes. The big head rested on a bull neck which crowned broad shoulders. His face was dominated by a broad jaw. He sported the fierce mustache currently in military fashion. The brown eyes held their fair share of intelligence. They were smart enough to hide their contempt for the small man they were staring at.

"You are certain that nothing else was taken, Borteliar?"

The sorcerer nodded his gray head. "I know my tower, Captain Barkane. All my other treasure rooms were untouched. They only took the Simulacrum."

"Simu…" Captain Barkane knotted his brows.

Borteliar huffed in impatience. "Yes! The Simulacrum! An image of one of the Eastern gods, imbued with a portion of the deity's powers."

"And this one was…"

"Domea, Goddess of Unbridled Passion, Unquenchable Lust, and Ménage a Whole Lot of People! It's the rarest of the set!"

"Rarest?" Barkane shook his head. "You'd think they'd have made a lot of that one."

"Oh, they made a ton of them. But they're fragile, requiring gentle care. They, they get dropped a lot."

Barkane barely hid his smirk. "Hence the pillow lined floor and the heart shaped bed in the center of the room. And all those swings suspended from the ceiling…those aren't traps, by any chance?"

The little man turned beet red. "A wise man always takes precautions when dealing with the fabulously rare. Have you any ideas who did this, Captain?"

"I don't know who did it, but it does fit a pattern." Middletonia's finest ruminated. "First, they gained entrance by climbing a tower everyone thought could not be scaled. Your guards were knocked out with a strange substance, at least that's what they'll tell us when they wake up at sunrise. Your lock was melted by an ac, ac…"

"Acid." Borteliar filled Barkane in.

"Right, an acid. While we know how they do it, we have no idea of who they are."

"Not even a description?"

"No, but we have a general idea of their leader's build. Short, slender, agile. He leaves a calling card."

The Captain held up a pair of breeches.

RB

Light spilled out from the door and windows of the Slit Purse. Rough laughter, shattering crockery and the shrill laughter of whores came form the self-described most iniquitous place on earth. A stall outside the door did a brisk business in chain mail purses. On the other side of the door a rival vendor sold wire cutters.

The hooded figure entering the inn paid neither stall any attention. At the bar the innkeeper nodded to a door on the left wall. With a return nod the newcomer strode up to the door. A bouncer opened it.

Three hooded figures sat at the far end of a table. The newcomer sat across from them. All radiated danger without being overly large.

"Do you have it?" The voice rasped from the visitor's cowl. It was as though the voice came from somewhere else.

"You have the gold?" A hood fell back from the figure on the right to reveal a pudgy dark face. The dark eyes glowed with intelligence. "If you don't, there are plenty of interested parties."

In response the newcomer stretched out a gloved hand palm downward. Golden coins rained through the fingers. "Count it if you like. Touch it if you want. It's all there."

"Don't mind if I do." The figure on the left reached out a pink paw. Ruthless let his cowl fall back as his bewhiskered face glowed with greed. "It's all here."

The strangled voice seeped out again. "You have what you want. Now give me what I want."

Wadelin and Ruthless turned to the figure in between them. Ruthless spoke up. "All right, partner, hand it over."

No answer came.

"Partner," Ruthless waved his paw in front of his face. "are you in?"

The cowl fell away to reveal horror. Ronman's freckled face was pale and slack jawed. His eyes were dark with great bags under them. Drool glistened in the corner of his mouth. He barely breathed.

"Do you mean he's been holding it since last night?" The visitor wondered. "Ewwwww."

"No, just since this morning." Ruthless answered.

"Better than Lonya, Conya and Bonya." The barbarian boy whispered.

"I'll get it." Before anyone could stop him Ruthless took it from Ronman with a naked paw. His face immediately mirrored Ronman's except for the drool. NSTMR never drool except where cheese is involved.

"Let me guess…" the buyer started.

Wadelin nodded. "Yep. He held it before Ronman." His gloved hand took the nude multi-everything statue and handed it to the visitor. Domea disappeared into a small bag.

"A pleasure doing business with you." The youth smiled. "If you have any future jobs just let us know."

"Actually I do." The voice rasped. All three were now capable of paying attention. "At the edge of the city stands the Tower of Darkness, said to have riches without end. It is also said to have the greatest treasure…the Golden Brush of Vidal Bosley."

"A brush? What would anyone want with that?" Ruthless asked.

Wadelin grinned. "In your case, 'Nair' a thing. Get it? Nair a thing, as in Nair?" When no one joined in his laughter he sighed. "Tara would get it."

"Hey, hey, anyone here interested in riches?" Three sets of eyes looked forward again. "All right then. Thing is the Golden Brush can do anything with hair. It can untangle any knot, heal any split end, and get out the gray. They say it can even restore lost hair. It's the greatest artifact of Ancient Boulder and it's in the Tower."

"It sounds priceless." Wadelin said.

"Oh, we'll think up a price." Their patron replied. "Are you in?"

"Yeah, we're in." Ronman nodded.

"Good! Then I'll be back in two nights. Only the next time you'll need a wagon for your gold."

The three thieves watched their employer leave. When the door closed Wadelin turned to his partners. "Could you two have been any less professional? The way you two behaved with the Simulacrum."

Ronman looked over at Ruthless. "If we find another one, we're keeping it."

"By Shrom's Steel Hand, it's a pact!" Each Actuarian brought his left hand/paw up. They slapped them together and pulled them back over their shoulders. "Abooyah!"

"Barbarians." Wadelin shook his head.

"You'll understand in four years, five tops." Ronman said playfully. "What do we know about the Tower of Darkness, Wadelin?"

"Nothing. I'll get over tomorrow to the Office of Building Permits, Magical Division and look over the plans. We'll have a briefing before we leave."

"But before the briefing, a stop at the leather works, the Breeches Bandit needs a new calling card." Ronman stretched.

"You wouldn't have to keep buying new breeches if you hadn't lost your belt." Ruthless muttered.

"It was a job." Ronman answered testily.

"Stealing a girl's virginity? You call that a job?"

"She HIRED me!"

"Just my point," Ruthless snorted, "how hard could that be?"

"I still had to scale the tower, slip past the guards and pick the lock to her room. And it was for a good cause. You didn't see the picture of the man her dad was going to marry her to! Now she's married to the man she loves."

"Oh yes, she loves him all right. You can hear them every night if you walk down by Park Street." The NSTMR shook his head. "But did you have to let her keep your belt as a souvenir?"

"She used it to prove she resisted."

"I hope she didn't plan to use all those hickies on you as evidence too." Ruthless was a NSTMR of many skills, he divided the loot even as he argued. "Okay, here's everyone's share. Time to get some rest, we have another job tomorrow night."

Somewhere down the street the visitor walked away. A very different voice issued from the cowl.

"And the fishies take the bait."

RB

Darkness came again to Middletonia. The good people of the city gathered around their fires to sing, tell stories and otherwise pass the time. In small rooms scholars lit their candles while in others lovers eagerly put theirs out. But aside for those whose job it was to watch over others, the good people of Middletonia retired for the night.

But there were others out: the bad guys. True, their intents varied from the merely naughty to the deeply villainous, but the night and the streets belonged to them. They had taken those streets from the good people of Middletonia, to be returned at dawn.

Three such bad guys made their way past the great reflecting pool and up to the Dark Tower. Ruthless led the way sometimes on two legs, other times on four. Twice he had used Wadelin's spores to knock out guards. Next came Ronman, hand on sword hilt. Wadelin was last, loaded down with climbing gear. All three wore the same black leather shirt, breeches, soft boots and mask covering the top half of the face.

They stopped at the edge of the Tower. Wadelin produced a jar. "This will let you cling to the walls, Ruthless, just like a…"

Sharp ears caught a rustle among the bushes to their left. Ruthless and Ronman drew their swords and turned to confront the stranger.

It was a girl. Her skin was dark like Wadelin's. She had her hair tied up in twin knots on either side of her head. The curved sword in her hand looked wickedly sharp. Aside for the blade she and her clothing, shirt, skirt and boots, blended into the shadows.

"You're not a guard." Ronman observed.

"Neither are you." She stepped forward, fingertips touching her sword blade. "I am Moniquity."

"I am Ronman." The Actuarian boy smiled. "This is Ruthless, and this is…"

"Wadelin." The youth said in a very small voice.

"It's the Breeches Bandit Gang." The smile was winning. Her dark eyes carried over behind her to the Tower. "Three fools who laugh at death. Do you any idea of the horrors that lie in there?"

This gave Wadelin his chance. 'Actually, I researched their zoning application. It tells what they're permitted to…"

"Rhetorical question, baby boy! Okay, YGF."

"What?" Three confused males asked at once.

"You Go First." Moniquity rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm speaking another language!"

RB

Ronman followed Moniquity up her rope after Ruthless had secured it at the top of the Tower. Even with his strength, claws and Wadelin's alchemy Ruthless had been tested to his limits on that climb. It was easy to see why. The Tower consisted of a slick black stone with spiral grooves extending the length of the structure. Again and again they slipped despite Wadelin's adhesives. Only Moniquity's grips tied into the rope at every arm's length prevented them from plunging to a messy death below.

Ronman appreciated the view. Moniquity's skirt was brief and her loin cloth briefer still. "Nice leg muscles." He said approvingly.

"Thanks, little man. Remember, JLFN."

"Wha—oh, Just Look For Now. For now?" the last part was blurted out hopefully.

"This works out and we're rich, we might just step out. Money's for the spending and the more spent on me the better!"

"The Ronman's all about more. We'll have a great time."

"FTF, baby boy."

Ronman went of excitedly. "I prefer it that way, but I also like…"

"Wrong interpretation! Just because I'm ten kinds of hot doesn't you're climbing my Dark Tower any time soon."

"Got it." Ronman said with a hint of dejection.

_You might get it sooner than you think cutie pie. _The dark beauty smiled to herself as Ruthless offered her a paw from the top of the Tower.

Three thieves stood atop the Dark Tower Wadelin waved to them before stepping into the bushes."

"He's not coming?" Moniquity asked Ronman.

"No, he keeps the escape route open. Hey!" he took a deep breath. "It smells really nice down there."

Moniquity took hold of the BBG rope secured to a beam on the Tower's roof. "Even if I'm getting prettier, I'm not getting any younger."

RB

The Dark Tower was pretty inside. Broad hallways were well lit. The air was fresh and clean. Veins of gold and silver were worked into the exotic black and green marble in a way that was extravagant yet tasteful.

"There's some kind of money in here." Moniquity whispered admiringly.

"Clearly this is the tower of a great wizard or lord." Ruthless agreed.

"It could be a lady." Ronman added. "I mean, it's an awfully nice place and the prize is a brush."

"Hey," Moniquity snapped, "let me tell you about men and vanity. My brother…"

"Never had a brush like that." Ruthless said quietly.

Three thieves stood outside the door of a great room. It was indeed a woman's room. A table stood in the center of the room, full length mirrors stood in a horseshoe behind it. The prize was in plain sight.

The Golden Brush of Vidal Bosley lay gleaming on a black pillow with green tassels. Ancient bristles of unicorn ivory promised perfection regardless of one's hair length, style or texture. Its handle would fit any hand and allow for any technique. Empathy seemed to come from its golden surface.

Moniquity whistled. "Where have you been all my life?" Before she could step forward Ruthless put his arm across her.

"Ronman goes first."

"Him? Why him?"

Ruthless had an answer. "Magic items are tricky. It's always dangerous to touch something that can appeal to a part of your personality. You're beautiful…"

"And aside for the obvious your point is?"

"You might not be able to let go of the Brush."

"What about yourself? You don't have any hair?"

"The curiosity might prove overwhelming. But Ronman here is immune to the siren call of styling and profiling."

Moniquity cast a glance at Ronman. He was scratching his head. "At least he bathes. Yeah, you're right, Ruthless. Ronman, you go."

"All right, everybody just stand back and watch the Ronman work." He slipped into the room, looking about for traps. Carefully he threaded his way around the great curtains that reached from the ceiling to the floor. He was at the table. No alarm sounded when he lifted the Brush.

"Abooyah!" Ronman said softly.

_Abu eh?_

"Who said that?" Ronman drew his sword.

_Moi, l'brush d'Vidal Bosley. I have been waiting for you for a thousand years!_

"Is this kind of prophet G?"

_Non! It is just, yours is just the sort of rat's nest I was made for! Take me to a mirror!_

Inanimate or not, the Brush had a commanding personality. The Actuarian went to a mirror. At the door Ruthless and Moniquity watched curiously.

Heavy silk curtains came down to block the door. Ruthless drew his sword to cut his way through when Moniquity grabbed his arm.

"Footsteps!"

RB

The Golden Brush was not only skillful, it was chatty. Magic grooming device and thief carried on an animated conversation as the former guided the latter's hand.

_Such a mane you describe! Ah, how I would love to sink my bristles into that! No idea what the color is?_

"No, I always see just an outline. But she has these green eyes…"

_Green, eh? Perhaps she is blond, though possibly brunette. Or even better, red! You know what they say: red on the head, fire in the…Done! Now, let's go show the world!_

Ronman turned from the mirror. "Looks like the curtains shifted." He reached for a rod just within his field of vision. It felt odd to the touch. Instead of cool and smooth it was hard and leathery. He turned slowly to see what had felt so out of place. Instead of a curtain rod he gripped a withered arm. The rest of the corpse hung upside down, suspended in what was not a curtain.

Barbarian instincts cut through his sense of dread, causing him to duck. Death swept past on a silken strand. It landed and scuttled about to stare at him with eight beady eyes.

The Brush scoffed. _Ach! I would not ever touch those hairs!_

Ronman staggered back, sword in one hand, Brush in the other. His heart caught in his throat. "Spider! Giant Spider!"

The brown and red arachnid was half his height and weight. It studied its prey for a moment before propelling itself with its eight horrid legs. Ronman stepped aside and the monster crashed into a mirror. Fangs dripped venom as it hissed. Claws clicked as it raced along. As it pursued the fleeing barbarian it trailed its own blood behind it.

Looking over his shoulder Ronman failed to notice the web shrouded remains of an earlier victim. He tumbled over the husk of a man. A triumphant hiss announced his purser's arrival. The spider reared up to strike the fallen boy.

Another shadow flew past Ronman to crash into his attacker. It was another spider of the same species. With few exceptions spiders are fierce cannibals. The blood of the first had drawn out the second.

Ronman looked up at the ceiling for the first time. Holes lined the top of the walls, the curtains not curtains came from them. Spiders were pouring out in a feeding frenzy. Some waited at holes to pounce on the others as they came out. Man and Brush were in a state of panic.

_Get us out! Get us out!_

"I'm getting!" A double door beckoned through the chaos. Ronman grasped the handles and pulled. Something snapped in front of him. He felt his breeches fall around his ankles.

"Aw, man! Now spiders are doing it!"

The one in front of him dwarfed the others. Eyes the size of bucklers looked him over. By the dripping venom he knew he had made the menu. Lightning reflexes brought Ronman's feet into the air. A quick double kick sent his breeches flying over the spider's eyes. He jumped over its fangs and ran along its hideous back. Once he landed he saw a small door enshrouded by silk. His sword cut through it as the spider struggled to turn before its lunch could get away. He opened the door and stumbled out into a hallway.

Behind him the giant had turned. Ronman backed up in horror as the spider tried to squeeze through the door. Suddenly it jerked back and Ronman could see dozens of smaller spiders scrambling for spots on the all-you-can-eat buffet. He leapt forward and shut the door.

For a few minutes he leaned against the far wall and shook. Finally he took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Ah, I'm glad that's over."

Then another stealthy sound caught his ear: the clink of armor.

RB

"Run, Ruthless run!"

Moniquity pounded up another hallway with Ruthless trailing behind. From time to time crossbow bolts skittered on the walls behind them as men fired on the thieves' shadows. Even with that encouragement Ruthless could not keep up with the lithe girl in front of him.

A pair of guards made the fatal mistake of leaping out from another room and trying to stop Moniquity. Ruthless jumped over the bodies to see they had made it back to the top of the Tower.

"Kill them!" a voice echoed from below them.

Ruthless drew his sword to make a stand. That was when he noticed Moniquity sheathing her weapon and climbing onto the edge of the Tower. She was judging the distance to the pool below.

"Do you want to live forever?" He challenged.

"That's the plannnnn!" She made a perfect dive, barely causing a splash in the water. Ruthless watched her climb out and disappear into the darkness.

_I won't do Ronman any good up here. Escape now, free Ronman tomorrow._ He jumped over the side.

"Catapult Shot!"

Wadelin came out of the shadows when he surfaced. No one saw them run off into the night.

RB

Six men in red lacquered armor advanced on Ronman. Their sallets left the lower jaw exposed so he could see their smiles. Ronman kept his smile on the inside: he had them where he wanted them.

"Shrom, the odds look good!" He knocked the first man's halberd aside before giving him a good punch to the jaw. The guards tried to close in but found their pole arms poorly suited for fighting in a hallway. Short sword, fists and feet worked perfectly and in moments Ronman was chasing them around the bend. The pursuit ended when a dozen swordsmen came up in support of their comrades.

Ronman ran back the way he had come. As he passed the spider lair door he kicked it open. He could hear the sound of fighting behind him.

_I need a way out. _He opened another door. Apparently it was someone's sleeping quarters. Graceless feet tripped over a pile of laundry and he tumbled into a chute in the wall. Flailing limbs kept him from picking up too much speed. He hit the ramp hard anyway and flew out into another room and onto a large pile of dirty tunics.

"Like a smelly cloud." He sighed.

Voices cut his reverie short. "Yes, Commander I'll post another squad at the main door. Of course, Commander at once!"

Footsteps faded. Ronman waited for a few minutes before opening the door. _They won't expect me to go up. _Then his plan collapsed.

A pair of steel sabot blocked his way. One was lacquered green, the other black. Each piece of armor alternated those colors up to the cuirass. It was painted half and half. It was a slender set of armor, too slender most men, but the wearer was definitely not male.

Her hair was a lustrous black, cascading down her shoulders. The oval face was perfect and so pale that for a moment Ronman feared he was confronting a vampire. But undead eyes could never have matched the sparkle of those gemlike green orbs.

"Green…" he started before he realized they were not the eyes of recent dreams. _But I've seen those before, too. _

The woman grinned, the effect was feline, save that instead of claws a sword rested on her right shoulder. "Yes, they are green; I'm famous for them back home."

"In Go City?" Ronman took a step back as she stepped in. "I've seen that armor before."

"And you're still alive." The sultry voice teased. "Not bad, but I should've expected that much from the Breeches Bandit."

"So you know who I am?" The boy stood a little taller and raised his eyebrows.

"Doy! You're standing in your loin cloth with my Brush."

He touched the golden handle peeking out of the bag at his side. "I should have known. Your hair looks great!"

She gave her hair a toss. "I know. Now hand it over before I part you down the middle!"

Her overhead stroke came with blinding speed. Ronman caught her sword at the last possible moment. As she strained to push his guard down, he noticed the runes on her sword.

"Hey! That's the sword my Mom made for me! Who's the thief?"

"I'd say the dead one!" She swept his legs out from under him and came down with another savage strike. Ronman rolled away from the blade and under several racks of towels. He came up behind them and watched as his opponent cut her way through them.

They battled over and around piles of laundry. They fenced across folding tables. At one point she drove him back across a plank set over a vat of soaking draperies.

The Actuarian in him assessed the situation. He was tired from running and fighting: she was still fresh. She was as fast as anyone he had ever seen. Barbarians may affect to not care about the finer points of fencing but he could tell she was phenomenal. Having locked blades with her twice he knew he could not count strength as an advantage.

And he had to contend with her armor. The one time he had gotten past her guard his blade slid off her cuirass. Only lightning reflexes had saved his hide from her attacks. He was now being driven into a corner that was hemmed in by mountains of folded linens. Once trapped, he would be doomed.

He ducked under another slash, and suddenly his mother's words came to him. They were from the time they had had a very special talk about girls.

"_Now, Ronman. Some day you may find yourself with a very special girl, all alone, and fighting to the death. We've always raised you to follow the Actuarian code, and as a man of our people I expect you to treat every girl with respect._

"_Always go for the heart first, it's the most romantic way to kill. If you can't get it, go for the gut, then the heart. _

"_But if you can't do either of those, you go for the throat. It may be messy, but it's quick. And it's easy to cover up for a funeral. If worst comes to worst, there's always a way to balance a head back on the neck in a casket or on a bier. _

"_Ronman, if I ever, ever hear that you stabbed a woman in the face, I will be very disappointed in you. There's just no way to cover up a face wound. That may be fine for a guy but killing a woman like that just demonstrates a complete disregard for her feelings."_

"What about mine?" Ronman blurted out.

"You're getting yours right now!" His opponent made a lunging attack. Ronman twisted away at the last possible moment. His mother's blade cut through his shirt as he moved. The Actuarian was behind his opponent.

He turned, bringing his sword across in a wide sweep. His aim was perfect and his elbow was locked. She began to bring her left hand up in defense. It was too little, too late. At the most his blade would beat down her fingers before biting through her neck.

_At least there's lots of clean laundry around for her head to land on._

Just as the blade reached her fingertips her gauntlet began to glow. Ronman staggered back, bedazzled by the flash of green light. When his vision cleared he found himself staring at a melted sword blade. Suddenly the tip of his old sword was under his chin. Its new wielder smiled.

"Smooth move, but I still win." She pulled the sword back and slid it into its sheath.

"Let's talk."

"Uh, okay." Every second he kept her separate from her men gave him one more chance to escape.

"Would you hand me my Brush?" The woman extended her hand. Being the gentleman he was Ronman took it out of his bag and handed it over.

"Thanks." She looked at the Brush. "You had fun? I'm glad." If Ronman had not heard the Brush in his own head he would have thought the woman insane.

"Just sit down anywhere. I'm going to lock the door. We need a little privacy." He could head the bolt slide and then metal clinking. A quick look around found no weapons.

_She could have killed me a minute ago. Let's see what she wants._

"Ma'am?" he called out.

"Just a minute." The voice lilted over to him.

"Thanks for not killing me…yet. Maybe we should start over. I'm Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe."

"Pleased to meet you." The voice was close again. "You know where I'm form. I am Shegoix…the Sultry."

(You mean Shegoix the Slutty. Megoic, that's no way to talk about your sister! Shegoix the Snippy maybe, but not…. Say Shegoix the Snarky and you've got it, Hegoic. Wegoic, Wegoik! All of you cut it out!)

Shegoix stepped out from behind a mountain of clean towels. Her smile was inviting, her nude figure flawless and her skin…

"Argh! A Troll!" Ronman scratched his head. "No, you can't be a Troll, they're ugly. You're beautiful!"

"But?" her voice teased.

"Your skin, it's two-toned."

"This?' she held her arms out at her sides. "This is a touch of home. Body paints and they're flavored."

"Flavored?" This new wrinkle in civilization left even more confused.

Shegoix sauntered over to where Ronman was sitting and sat down beside him. Each hand cupped a mound of feminine perfection, bringing them up for Ronman's admiring gaze.

"The green is mint. Go on."

Ronman could not resist. "Oh, that's delicious! What's the black?"

"Dark chocolate. It's great, but don't take my word for it. Try it."

Sweets were rare in wild Actuaria. Most of its fruits were tart and honey was for mead. So something sweet was wonderful. And in this form, it was pure Heaven. By the soft sounds she made Shegoix agreed.

"Be sure to get it all…I'd hate to stain the sheets." When Ronman was done she let go of him and smiled. She gently sat him back on the laundry and peeled off the remains of his shirt. Ronman swallowed as she undid his loincloth.

Shegoix was on her knees before him. She took her hair and draped it over her left shoulder.

"Guys always like to see this."

Ronman could not believe what he was seeing. Her lips, her tongue, and what they were doing. It took all his skills learned since leaving home to hold on as long as he did. No one had ever heard an 'Abooyah' like the one that reverberated off the walls of the Tower of Darkness.

Shegoix looked around. "Oh well, I don't have to clean it up." She stood up and grabbed a sheet. "Come here." The black haired woman wrapped them both up in the sheet, leaving room inside to walk, and give her free hand some space to play. After what she had just done, he willingly walked with her to the door.

The soldiers outside were well disciplined. Not one snickered at the blond barbarian's love dazed face. They fell in around Shegoix and Ronman.

"We have business to conduct." Her whisper made his skin break out in goose pimples. The authority in her voice only increased his pulse.

"Men, escort us to my bed chamber!"


	7. Behind the Green Door

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to Sentinel103, CajunBear73, Isamu, Soth11, King of Mantheren, Michael Howard, King in Yellow, whitem, screaming phoenix, BlueEyedBrigadier, Stubbs101, dave 22, soulman3, MrDrP, Eidolon Wisp, and to all the others who are still tuning in. And a special thanks to King in Yellow, who came up with this title.

**Ruthless and Wadelin retreated into the night, while my lord was at the most tender mercies of the Mistress of the Tower of Darkness. But tenderness baits many a deadly trap.**

Chapter 6. Behind the Green Door

A pair of black clad figures walked into the Slit Purse. Knowing eyes went wide in surprise at the short count. At some tables money exchanged hands. The pair ignored the stares and went straight into their usual room. The slamming door set tongues to wagging.

"Oh, this is just great!" Wadelin snapped. "We're down two people tonight!"

"Just one." Ruthless corrected him. "Did Moniquity tell you anything about where she was going? We could use her in the rescue operation."

"Not a word! I tried to ask her o…of her plans! Yeah, I tried to ask her about her plans but she just ran by me. It's like I'm too young."

_So, you didn't need four years to understand, just the right stimulus. _"We need to devise a rescue plan. Do you have any new toys, Wadelin?"

"I've got a smoke bomb that could be useful. We need to move before they break Ronman. How long do you think we have?"

Ruthless went rigid. His right eye twitched. "If you were any other man I would kill you where you stand! Ronman is Actuarian. We never break! They can do anything, try anything, he'll never talk."

RB

_Oh, my tongue is worn out._

Ronman looked up now that Shegoix's hands were no longer atop his head. He rested his cheek against a perfect pale thigh and watched her hands grasp the dark green sheets as she gasped and moaned with pleasure. Her unearthly beauty, her graceful movements, her wondrous scent; all sent passion coursing through his veins yet again until it reached his tired loins which called back to his brain.

_Hey, thinking thing, could you give us a few minutes? And how about some drinkage?_

Shegoix lazily opened her eyes to look down toward her lover. Even as mussed up as it was, his hair retained the glamour bestowed by her Brush. While no Fabio, he was not without a certain goofy charm. And certainly no other lover had ever brought so much under the table, so to speak, or used it with such tender exuberance. Appreciation turned into renewed interest which blossomed into additional desire. Her weary loins brought all of that to a halt.

_Hey, brain easy for you to say 'again! again!'. How about a breather and something to drink?_

"Come here, you." Shegoix purred and Ronman slid up alongside her. He leaned on an elbow, his eyes running down her body before returning to gaze into hers.

"You know, I won't talk. No matter what you do."

"Have I asked you anything?" she smiled.

"No, but you gave very clear instructions."

Shegoix laughed. "I know what works on me. From the way you reacted I knew no one had ever gone south on you before. If you hadn't received, it's not likely you'd know how to give. Do you even know the expression?"

Ronman looked as thoughtful as he could under the circumstances. "Come to think of it, Whenever Dad wanted Mom to make him a new weapon or special piece of armor he'd promise to take a trip south."

"Did it work?"

"Mom would always be at the forge first thing next morning with a big smile on her face."

"I'll tell you what. You get this…" Shegoix reached up and touched Ronman's tongue. "…going like you've got that…" her hand trailed down to settle on a whole lot of happiness, "…and you'll be able to get a girl to do nearly anything."

"Anything?"

"I said nearly anything." Shegoix shook her head. "Do you think I'm gonna let the best lay I've had in this Podunk town just walk out the door?"

"So that's what Tara meant in her last vision when she said I was too good for my own good."

"It is a danger." The raven haired beauty teased. "Become a love god and you have to answer all sorts of prayers."

She pulled him down on top of herself. Instead of giving directions, she took matters into her own hand.

A guard stood on either side of the large green door. The noises coming from the bed chamber led the guard on the left to extend his palm toward his companion and grin. The second guard smiled and flipped a silver coin over to the first.

"You win…fourth time this watch."

RB

In the side room of the Slit Purse Ruthless checked the edge of his mighty (if short) two handed sword. Ill-gotten gains had enabled him to replace the armor lost at Go City. It was not quiet, but Ruthless was not feeling particularly stealthy at the moment.

He turned to the door leading to their quarters. "Wadelin, do we have a plan?"

The door swung open and Wadelin strode out in studded black leather armor. A sword hilt peeked over one shoulder while an axe handle rose above the other. Pouches hung from his hips. His face was covered with fierce war paints of the Far South.

"We've got a plan." The young man's expression was determined. "First, we need to find Moniquity."

"Why?"

Wadelin's look softened. "Because I…I mean, because we need her." His determined expression returned. "We need her thieving skills, her sword, her smooth brown skin and her honey sweet laughter."

"Do you have a plan or have you composed a sonnet?"

"It's right here!" the alchemist snapped. He unrolled a scroll. "The city storm sewers lead right up to the Tower. One of my acids will burn through the iron bars and we're in the cellar. He should be in or near the master's chambers, that's where they have their torture rooms. It's almost two-thirds the way up the Tower."

"Why not climb the Tower again? It would be a shorter fight."

"They'd be expecting us to come that way. Besides, here we know that our escape route is open. Now, they'll assemble the remaining guards in the open area in front of the master's chambers. We'll save the smoke bomb for there."

Ruthless unrolled the parchment. He paid particular attention to the illustrations. "I feel better knowing that you'll bulk out like this before we hit the Tower. And interesting last bit here: Moniquity turns into a princess, declares her love for you and kisses you…on the cheek? Wadelin, we need to have a talk, about girls."

Suddenly the door to the inn's main room flew open. The massive Middletonian soldier lowered his foot and leveled his crossbow. Four more men crowded behind him. Another four rushed in from the thieves' own quarters. Ruthless shoved the plans into the lamp's flame.

The lead soldier did not so much talk as bellow beneath his huge mustache. "Confederates of the Breeches Bandit, surrender in the name of the King!"

RB

Ronman and Shegoix sat on the edge of her bed. Each was drinking deeply from a pitcher As they drank, their brains were assailed by their frazzled naughty bits.

_WE SAID WE NEEDED WATER!_

Shegoix drained the last drop and set her pitcher aside. She sighed.

"Ahhh, if only someone else had made it this far. But you were worth the wait."

"Huh? Was this all a test?"

"Yep, I've had my eyes on you guys ever since you started. Who do you think kept giving you harder and harder jobs?"

"That was you?" Ronman was incredulous.

Shegoix took a deep breath, expanded her cheeks and spoke through clinched teeth. "Do you have it?"

"Wow! You were the cloaked stranger?" His eyes glimmered with hope. "Do you still have Domea?"

"Sorry, that was a birthday gift. I knew Bortelair would never sell."

"So all of this was just for show?"

"No, that was real. The guys in the webs weren't props."

"Well, sorry about getting all your spiders killed."

Shegoix shrugged. "Don't worry. I've harvested enough silk from them to last a hundred years. Besides, they were icky. Think I'll replace them with miniature wyverns; they're cute, they sing, and they eat everything, even the bones."

"And the fight in the laundry room?"

"Hey, if I could kill you without using my Powers, you wouldn't be up to the job."

"What's the job?"

Shegoix shook her head. "I'm not hiring. You'll have to wait to find out."

Ronman looked over at the door. "Just like the one in the Citadel at Go City. Did they send you my sword?'

"Hegoic did. He's always trying to get me to come back; sending loot from this horde or that monster. He's my brother, they're all my brothers. Go City's own little pantheon."

"You mean you're gods?" Ronman gasped.

"Demigods actually. Mom was mortal; I get my looks from her. One day when she was about your age she was tending the flowers on the rooftop of the family home she got caught in a sudden shower. It left her drenched and rendered her gown see-through. Before she could get inside a rainbow landed at her feet and a man stepped off.

"She said He was so handsome it was scary. Tall, muscular, skin like marble, hair and eyes every color of the rainbow. He was Hiyadol, Guardian of the Bridges Between the Worlds, that's what rainbows are."

"I've heard of Him." Ronman said. "He's one of Shrom's brothers."

Shegoix nodded. "He reached out and touched Mom's shoulder. Her gown dried instantly and then fell off. By the time He left she was hopelessly in love…and pregnant."

"Hey, when Tara and I did it she got pregnant, and it was our first time."

"It only takes once." Shegoix reminded him. "And when a mortal sleeps with a god, she always gets knocked up. Grandpa didn't believe her of course. He took her to court to disown her."

"That's not fair!" Ronman fumed.

"Not fair, just normal." The demigoddess continued. "Relax, it all worked out. Before the judge could pass sentence Hiyadol came in on his rainbow, put His hand on Mom's belly and declared the child was His. What choice did Grandpa have? He took Mom home."

"Hiyadol came by to see Hegoic when he was born. At Hegoic's first birthday He gave Mom a gift. Over the next few years she got two more."

"You, Megoic and the twins?"

"Pretty sharp for a barbarian." Shegoix approved. "After a while Dad decided He loved Mom so He had her deified. They left us with Grandpa until he died. That's when Go City gave us the Citadel. Dad is the Guardian of the Bridges Between the Worlds, we were the Guardians of Go City."

She took up her Brush and combed out her long hair. "The Brush was a gift from Dad. We all got a divine gift from Him when we were born. Hegoic got Maxwell's Silver Hammer."

"I saw that one." Ronman shuddered.

"Megoic got the lens of something called the 'Dittocam'. It enables his men to shrink with him. The twins got the Bows of Hollywood; they never run out of arrows."

"What about the armor? It looks special too."

"Mom had it made for us. She knew we'd be getting into all sorts of scraps,"

"She should get a refund. Ruthless and me took out a lot of the red dudes."

"That's just a by-product of copying. The armor gets weaker with each copy. If you took them on personally, their armor is as good as mine."

Now Ronman was curious. "You're a demigoddess. Why did you leave? Did your brothers annoy you?"

"Not anymore than mortal siblings would have, I imagine."

"Some great tragedy drove you away?"

"Nope."

"The heavy burden of being a demigoddess and champion of a city cause you to leave seeking freedom and adventure?"

"No, but I was seeking something."

"What? You already had fame, wealth, worshippers, the chance to kick butt…"

A new side of Shegoix emerged. Her eyes blazed as she glared at him. Fists lit up with green fire as they shook with rage.

"I WASN'T GETTING ANY OKAY! NOW ARE YOU SATISFIED?"

"You?" Ronman could not believe his ears. "You were love starved?"

Shegoix was calm again. She crossed her long legs, an almost shy gesture, and she leaned him ever so slightly. "Being a demigoddess isn't all it's cracked up to be. Oh, it's great being a demigod. We called the hallway leading to Hegoic's and Megoic's chambers the Silk Road; there was always something frilly on the floor. And no one complained; it's an honor to have a demigod do your daughter."

She sighed. "But we all know the myths about men and goddesses. They get ripped to shreds, turned to stone, or She likes him and messes up the immortality spell and it's hello cricket city!

"Every now and then a guy would get up the nerve to ask me out. He'd meet the brothers and get the speech."

"What speech?"

"Oh, you know, the she's-our-sister-and-the-daughter-of-a-god-so-you'd-better-not-try-anything." She shook her head sadly. "And they didn't. I dated perfect gentleman after perfect gentleman after perfect gentleman. When I tried to show interest in something other than poems and flowers they thought it was entrapment. You wanna feel rejected? Try having a guy jerk his hand out of your dress top after you put it there!"

The hurt in her eyes touched Ronman; he was a barbarian, not a lout. He draped his arm around Shegoix's shoulders and let his hand wander down for a gentle caress.

"Thanks." Shegoix rubbed her head against his shoulder. "I finally left. I had to get off of that pedestal! I had seen so much of the Great Death and none of the Little One."

"The Little Death?" Ronman's eyes went wide. "Oh, yeah, right. Heh heh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Have you found what you were looking for?"

"I've had a good time." His naked captor replied. "And I found something else I'd never had before."

"What's that?"

"A challenge!" Her eyes had a peculiar gleam in them. "A true test of my skills, the quest they'll remember me for!"

Ronman was about to ask her more about that when she spoke again. "We have to go soon. And I see you've recovered."

After the past few hours Ronman was amazed that he could still blush. "Uh, all the talk about dying a little…"

"Sorry to say it, but I'm still a little out of it." All of a sudden Shegoix grinned and rolled onto her back on the bed and turned to where her head was just over the side. She grabbed Ronman on either hip and guided him to where he stood in front of her. Her smile was wicked.

"Now you'll see why I had the bed made so high up."

RB

Ruthless looked around. They were back in the Tower of Darkness, in the main entryway surrounded by dozens of crossbowmen. The guards seemed out of place amid the fountain and flower arrangements. Both still had their armor, but a rush would have been suicidal. Ruthless turned to the leader of the soldiers.

"Just what do you want, mister?" The NSTMR asked.

"That's Captain Barkane to you." The large man answered. "I'm not privy to that intelligence. It's not mine to reason why: only to execute my missions flawlessly."

"The Breeches Bandit will never talk!" Ruthless growled defiantly. "Beat him! Burn him! Actuarians are unbreakable!"

"YEEEEEEEEEEEARRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

Ruthless jumped into Wadelin's arms. "Shrom's Eye! That was Ronman!"

Wadelin's voice shook. "That's the sound of someone subjected to soul-devouring horror." He glared at Barkane. "You savage!"

Barkane pulled on his mustache. "But we were ordered to not harm you in any way."

"ARGHHHHHH!!"

The scream was closer. Ruthless climbed out of Wadelin's arms to stand on shaky legs. Wadelin sweated. Soldiers shifted their feet nervously. Barkane pulled out his amulet of Dash E'Lan and prayed for courage.

Ronman came tottering down the stairs and into the entryway. He was pale, almost as pale as the armored beauty supporting him. He could not stop trembling.

"All these years." He whispered. "All these years I thought he was talking about going on raids or to war! I never thought…Shrom, I can see them!"

"It's okay." Shegoix said soothingly. "My parents are gods; but the thought of seeing them together like that turns me green."

"Is that all?" Barkane grinned. "He's just talking about his folks doing…" The large man paled, as did the other thirty-nine soldiers and Wadelin. Only Ruthless was unfazed.

"What's up with you?" a queasy Wadelin moaned.

The NSTMR shrugged. "Come on, I was raised in a cage."

Shegoix took charge. "Barkane, soldiers, fall in! Bandits, remember what I told you the other night: more gold than you can carry."

"That was you?" Ruthless was taken aback.

"What can I say?" Ronman crowed. "The Lady has mad throatal skills."

The Go City divinity gave Ronman a little smile. "All right, everyone, next stop is the Palace!"

RB

**They were taken to the hall of King Drakken, the Usurper. Once a…oh, who am I kidding? He had nothing in common with my lord, nothing! He wasn't even old, just middle aged. And to call him a sot is an insult to drinking, man could not hold any liquor. He was about as macho as a Rhodiganian Party Planner.**

The throne room was impressive. High walls of polished stone held paintings of the king performing various mighty deeds of valor. Guards in red armor stood at attention and servants scurried about the man on the throne.

He was not the most kingly of men. Long blue robes seemed better suited for a wizard than a king. His dark eyes shifted about with nervous energy, as did his small hands. The long face with hooked nose and scar was intelligent, though it hinted at a lack of wisdom. He sat back on his throne and drummed the arm rests with his fingers.

Shegoix stepped forward. Armored fingers gathered imaginary skirts as she curtsied.

"These are the thieves you have requested, Sire."

"Three?" The voice was harsh. "I thought there would be more."

"The Breeches Bandit Gang are what we is!" Ronman declared grandly. "I am Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe."

Ruthless spoke next. "I am Ruthless! Also of Ronman's tribe."

Wadelin bowed. "Wadelin of the Far South. I am an alchemist."

The king stirred in his seat with interest. "An alchemist? Perhaps you can help us. We're having trouble with a toenail fungus."

"Toenail fungus?" Wadelin shuddered. "Ewwww."

"Perhaps later, Great King." Shegoix intervened before Drakken could divulge any details. "I'm sure they are eager to know how they may serve you."

"Quite right, Shegoix. The time has come to tell them what we require."

"We?" Ronman took a step back and looked to Shegoix. "Why does he keep saying 'we'? Is he crazy?"

"Do you dare insult us?" The king stood up, reaching for the sword hanging off the back of his throne. By the look of its hilt it had seen little, if any, use.

Shegoix raised her hands. "Whoa, Your Majesty. Ronman has no king. He's Actuarian, they have no rulers. He's a barbarian; he lives free in the world owing allegiance to no one." She turned to the boy. "Is that not so?"

"You got that right." The Actuarian nodded.

Drakken's smile was evil. "If we can't command your loyalty, then perhaps we can rent it. How does a chest full of silver middletons for each of you sound?"

"You have my attention." Ruthless spoke up. "What must we do?"

"You must rid us of a great scourge! Deliver us from a great evil! We require you to defeat our nemesis."

King Drakken leaned forward. The throne room fell silent.

"Bring us the Red Kim!"


	8. Gawks Over Kim

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

Thanks to Sentinel103, screaming phoenix, BlueEyedBrigadier, Isamu, Soth11, Michael Howard, CajunBear73, aedan cameron, soulman3, Katsumara, Wanderer3, King in Yellow, bigherb81, MrDrP, Drakonis Aurous, and everyone else who spent the night.

**For every man there comes a day of which he will look back upon and say 'My life changed that day' or perhaps 'I should have stayed in bed'. This was such a day for my master.**

Chapter 7 Gawks Over Kim

"The Red Kim?" Ronman puzzled.

Captain Barkane spoke up from behind him. "Actually 'the Red Kim' is only one of the many names for Middletonia's most wanted brigand. There's 'Scarlet Kim', the 'Crimson Kim' and the variant 'Kim Krimson'; the 'k' is so juvenile! In the countryside you might hear Kimbo or Kimala. Among the soldiers it's 'Kimberlee, Kimberla, Kimberlee…"

The assembled soldiers sang out. "Kimberlahahahahaha!"

Shegoix gave Barkane a sour look. "Why the stupid sing-a-long?"

"Belittling the enemy reduces his stature and makes him less formidable."

"Is it working?"

Barkane bowed his head. "Sadly, no; the army's still terrified of the Red Kim."

The pale woman huffed. "Psychological warfare: another fine product from Lame-o."

Ruthless puffed out his chest. "King Drakken, we pledge to end this brigand's murderous reign of terror…"

"Uh, it hasn't exactly been murderous." Barkane interrupted. "At least no Middletonian citizens or soldiers have been killed."

Ronman frowned. "But you said the army's terrified of him. If he's not killing your men, what gives?"

The Captain's dark eyes were haunted. "There are much worse things than death. The Red Kim subjects my men to unbearable humiliation. They're sent home…naked."

Black hair waved as Shegoix shook her magnificent head. "I know you're fashioned challenged, helmet hair, but coming back in tunic and boots is not naked."

"Coming back without weapons, armor or surcoat? For a soldier that IS naked!" The Captain drew himself up defensively but Shegoix merely shrugged.

"My idea of naked is a lot more fun."

King Drakken roared. "Silence! I don't care about you definitions; though I'd have to side with Shegoix. The point is a few more 'expeditions' and the Red Kim will have enough arms and armor to equip an army, an army that could be used against us! The army has proven helpless, and bounty hunters have done even worse. At least the soldiers have come back alive.

"Fortunately Shegoix had another of her brilliant observations: if you want to catch a brigand, hire a bandit! She handled the testing, which helped decrease the crime rate a bit and now we have you. You will ride out tomorrow."

"But, Sire." Wadelin spoke up. "We've never heard of the Red Kim. We need descriptions, records, case histories…"

"Captain Barkane and a select squad will go with you. They'll tell you what you need to know. Rooms have been provided. We bid you good night."

By the turn of his head and the wave of his hand, King Drakken has ended the audience. The Breeches Bandit Gang had no choice but to follow the servants out the door and down the hallway.

"Something's not right here…" Ruthless muttered.

"You mean aside for Drakken's complexion?" Ronman cut the NSTMR off. "I mean, did he have a blue undertone?"

"You're right about the skin." Wadelin swallowed. "I really don't want to see that toenail. Guess I'll go whip up something tonight so I can head that off. Goodnight, guys." He entered his room.

Two more rooms awaited the BBG. Ruthless was shown the next one. Ronman's room was spacious, clearly meant for a person of some importance. An armor stand held a new set of brigandine. After looking it over he realized how tired he was. He peeled off his clothes and settled in under the sleeping furs.

Despite his (pleasantly induced) exhaustion, Ronman was Actuarian, the product of centuries of struggle in the Fierce and Frozen North. His senses were naturally honed to lupine perfection. One trying to sneak up on him would be taking their lives into their own hands. But even the Wolf does not hear the Shadow.

RB

Drakken turned his head back once he heard the door close. Shegoix was still looking where Ronman had gone.

"Miss him?" The King smirked.

"He's so well…informed." She looked back to the throne. "And you're throwing him away! I should at least be going with them; the Red Kim is mine!"

King Drakken stood up and walked down to the floor, his hands behind his back. "Ah, Shegoix still obsessed with the Red Kim when there's so much more at stake. If the Red Kim was indeed all that, I wouldn't be King now, would I?"

"That was just Kim." The Go City Demigoddess warned. "The Red Kim is another matter!"

"But not as big a matter as my plans. Haven't you heard? Uppertonia is in chaos! Its magical defenses have been shredded, and half of its outer walls are wrecked. The King's abolition of slavery has cost him support among the aristocracy. The kingdom is ripe for the taking. After Uppertonia falls, we move on Lowertonia and the Tri-kingdom area will be mine!"

He stopped in front of Shegoix, his expression sly and his voice conspiratorial. "And once we have the resources of the Tri-kingdoms, we can pay a visit to Go City: a reward to the Commander of my Guard."

"A city of my own?" The gleam in her eye spurred him on.

"For starters. Who better to lead the soldiers of Go City as we head for Rhodigan? We'll have the mightiest kingdom the world has ever seen, and soon we'll have the world!" He threw up his hands and laughed.

"Once we have the Red Kim out of the way." Shegoix crossed her arms.

"The barbarians will take care of that little matter." He leaned forward, trying to placate the raven haired beauty. "I must admit, your idea of selecting a thief was brilliant."

"Brilliant if I were there! They can't handle the Red Kim. NO ONE can handle the Red Kim but me!" The look in her eyes brought unease to the King. Then a new voice made things much, much worse.

"Oh, you'd handle the Red Kim all right. You'll handle anything on two legs." An older woman stepped into the throne room from a side exit. Red hair was piled atop her head. She wore a frumpy flowery robe and the look of unbounded contempt for Shegoix.

"Mama King." Shegoix answered in a low, dangerous tone. "Care to tell me what you mean?"

"What, are you deaf as well as incompetent?" The grating voice sneered. "If you'd check sword arms like you do legs, you might have found somebody who could do the job!"

"I do my job!" Shegoix snapped. "Your boy is king because of me!"

"Oh, I've heard you've done all kinds of jobs. How many 'jobs' did your latest recruit get?"

Shegoix brought her arms up across her chest. Her fists erupted in green plasma as she brought them down. "You want a piece of this?"

"What? You mean some's left?" The old woman slapped her hands together. When they parted flames threaded from palm to palm. "This used to wow them back in the Court of the Crimson King."

King Drakken sought to regain control of his throne room. "Uh, Mother, Shegoix? We're an evil family here. Let's all just…"

The first bolt of plasma flashed past him. He shrieked and ran for his throne. He hid behind it as Shegoix fired bolt after bolt at his mother. She dodged them with astonishing agility. Flames lashed from her hands towards the demigoddess. Guards and servants fled screaming. Drakken dared to peek out from his safe place just in time to see his grand royal portrait burst into flames.

"This is why we can't have anything nice." He lamented.

RB

A hand reached out in the darkness to cover Ronman's mouth. Fortunately his eyes opened before his hands struck out. The face in the darkness was dark, dark and beautiful. Moniquity brought a fingertip up to her lips. Ronman nodded his understanding.

"Sorry I couldn't get to you in the Tower. I knew they'd bring ya'll here eventually." She took her hand away from his mouth and sat down on the side of the bed. "Nice bed."

"So, why are you here?"

Moniquity took a deep breath. "Ronman, don't go after the Red Kim!"

"Why?"

The dark beauty's eyes burned, and then went blank with confusion. "I, I can't tell you why. Why can't I remember? But you've got to stay away."

Actuarians are not comfortable with vague entreaties. "Why would I…"

"Cause you can stay with me." Moniquity smiled. Ronman's eyes crossed as she demonstrated her very special pickpocket skills. "And that's me just using my thumb. I've got four other fingers on this hand, and another hand to boot. Just you wait 'til I let go WEE on you."

"Uh, Moniquity, I'm really not into that kind of kink."

"Not kink, baby boy, that's With Everything Else! Let me just show you." Her hand left him, causing instant disappointment, but that vanished when she let her clothes fall away. She was as voluptuous as Bonya and as athletic as Shegoix, with skin like nothing he had ever seen before. His barbarian hardiness gave him the energy to lift the furs and let her slide in beside him.

The hands were only the merest preview to what she could do. They kissed and caressed for some time. When he put her on her back she sighed in resignation, but then she saw him crawl under the sheets to pay a visit to the Little Princess in her Dark Tower.

"My hero."

When she could stand the pleasure no longer Moniquity lifted Ronman's head. He took the hint, shifted and brought his other skills into play. They kept quiet out of professional courtesy, thief to thief. Given his depleted reserves, he did quite well. When they were done she curled up beside him.

"You could have this tomorrow night too." She whispered. "And the night after that and as long as you want, just don't go off after the Red Kim."

"What's up with the Red Kim anyway? He doesn't sound like a brigand, not like any I've ever heard of, anyway."

The beautiful face beside him contorted in frustration. "I don't know! It's driving me crazy. Somethimes it's like it's on the edge of my mind, and then it slips away. I feel like I have a hole in my memory. I do know that no foreigner King Drakken has sent after the Red Kim has come back, except for Shegoix."

Moniquity rested her head on his chest. "I've got money…not much to spend it on around here with King Drakken putting Middletonia on a war footing. You've got money. Let's get Ruthless and Wadelin and get out of here. We'll grab the world by the throat and make it give us what we want!

"I've been alone too long." She sighed. "Many times I've faced my Death with no one to know. I go past tents and houses and see couples holding each other in the darkest night and I look inside. Most times they don't have anything worth stealing so I pass on, but they have each other. It would be nice to have somebody myself."

"You love me?" Ronman asked uncertainly.

"Love?" Moniquity chuckled. "Not on your life. But you are pleasant company."

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Moniquity dove under the furs as Ronman wrapped one around himself. Shegoix was standing at the door. Her cheeks were smudged and her hair was a mess. It smoldered.

"Hey, Shegoix. What happened?"

"Policy dispute, high level politics can get a little rough." She smiled. "The Brush has its work cut out for it. I'd say, 'you ought to see the other gal', but you don't need any nightmares tonight. Listen, you're going out tomorrow and…"

Alarm bells went off in Ronman's head. _Shegoix would have to know Moniquity's a thief. How do I keep her out? _"Yeah, we start at dawn so…"

"Slow down, lover boy, I wasn't angling for an invitation." Shegoix shuffled a foot. "Besides, we all know how those last nights go…all tender and great and one or the other buys it in the next fight. I came to give you this." She reached behind her and a soldier handed her a sword.

"Mom's sword! Thanks!" He impulsively grabbed her and gave her a big kiss.

"Dang, I wish Hegoic had sent me your entire panoply. Look, I wish I was going with you but I have other business to attend to. I just want to say 'good luck'."

"With this, Ruthless and Wadelin I don't need luck." The barbarian clutched the weapon to his chest. "But I'd appreciate any info you have on the Red Kim."

Shegoix raised both hands and shook her head. "Sorry, royal decree; no one discusses the Red Kim in Middletonia." She pulled him close for a soft kiss. From the passion under the surface, he was glad she let superstition keep her initiating another marathon session. He was officially tapped out now.

"You take care of yourself, Ronman." The Mistress of the Tower of Darkness turned on her heel and walked away, her guard following.

Ronman set his sword on its place before the armor stand. He could feel Moniquity's eyes burning into his back. She put her arms around him as he slid back under the sleeping furs.

"You'll be going, then?"

"A promise to a King is nothing, but you don't break your word to a woman."

Moniquity ran her wonderful fingers through his hair. "You be careful then. When you…" She could not go on, so instead she gave him another kiss before settling down to sleep. Ronman nodded off with her warm body pressed against him.

When he awoke before dawn she was gone.

RB

**And so they rode forth, leaving mighty Middletonia, past the outlying towns and villages and into the countryside. They spoke with peasants, traders and wanderers. Always did they ask the same question: 'Where is the Red Kim?' and always did they receive the same answer: 'I dunno'. It got a little vexing after a while.**

"Okay, that tears it!" Ronman shouted as they rode away from the one-hundredth clueless merchant. "We've been out here for two weeks and nobody knows anything!"

"We did get one description." Captain Barkane noted.

Wadelin joined in. "Yeah, from a man in jail for insurance fraud!"

"I, for one, was under the impression that our good Captain would provide us with the needed intelligence." Ruthless gave Barkane a good look at his incisors as he sneered.

"Patience." Barkane counseled. "The Red Kim is near, I can feel it. The Red Kim is the enemy of Middletonia, what more do you need to know?"

"How he fights, how many men are with him. WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE!" Ronman's Actuarian patience had worn out. Lack of information was especially aggravating to a cold calculator of the odds.

If the outburst affected Barkane in any way he gave no sign. He merely looked back to the road. "Believe me, when you see the Red Kim, you'll know."

The road narrowed to a trail as they entered the highlands. Middletonia's western borders were hilly and wooded, perfect terrain for brigands. Keen barbarian eyes never rested as the party moved deeper and deeper into the woods. Other eyes watched them back, hidden in the brush.

A clearing by a cool stream made for an inviting place to camp. Soon venison roasted over a fire as the party rested from another fruitless day.

"What lies up that path?" Ruthless pointed to a trail running alongside the stream and up the hillside.

Captain Barkane followed his finger. "That leads to the Nubile Falls."

"Nubile?" the word caused Ronman's ears to perk up. "How did it get a name like that?"

"There's a small lake and waterfall up there. For generations local women have used it as a place to bathe."

"And that's the path they take?" The barbarian asked.

"Negative. The villages are up the hill. That's the path the men use to take a peek."

"Is it a long walk?"

Barkane shrugged. "How would I know?"

"You mean you've never taken the tour?" Ronman's joke caused Ruthless to place his face in his hands.

"Not interested in the attraction." The Captain rose. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to check on the sentries."

After Barkane left Wadelin spoke up. "Do you think he'll take the guards flowers?" The Alchemist almost jumped out of his skin when Barkane came up behind him.

"Fraternization in the field is unprofessional. And I never take flowers…they make you look needy."

Wadelin's eyes followed Barkane this time until he was well out of sight. "Needy? I thought flowers were supposed to be romantic!" Confused eyes turned to Ruthless. "You said you wanted to tell me something about all of that."

"Well, yes." The NSTMR shifted uncomfortably. "But I'd prefer to do so in private."

"What? Is it a big secret?" Wadelin leaned forward anxiously.

"It's definitely not for public display. Once we get a room somewhere we'll talk." Ruthless stood up, making sure there was no cheese left on the rind before he tossed it into the fire. "I say it's time we turned in."

RB

That night Ronman dreamed of water. Of still, cool water with fog just above its surface. He was enjoying the breeze when he heard the splash. Someone was wading in the water; through the fog and toward him. There was just enough light to see the outline. His heart leapt when he saw the mane. Then the morning sunrise shone in soft green eyes…

Ronman sat bolt upright. The camp was still shrouded in predawn darkness. He put on his armor and strapped on his sword, making as little noise as possible. No one stirred as he slipped through the camp and up the trail.

Mountaineer feet followed the path. While long and steep at places the path presented no problem. With his newly perfected thieving skills Ronman moved without a sound. Barbarian training enabled him to leave no signs of passing through. His anticipation grew as the trail leveled off.

Carefully trimmed trees and bushes created a blind. The bole of an ancient tree made a natural seat. Its bark had long since been worn down by visitors. Ronman followed their generation's long lead and took a seat.

The Nubile Falls were hauntingly beautiful in the half light of early dawn. The falls lay just left of center across from him. Shoreline followed the lake all the way around, running into steep rock walls that hemmed it in. Directly across from his position was a path worn smooth by generations of women. It was all lovely.

A splash caught Ronman's attention. It was not the sort a fish would make. The water at the pathway as still as smooth as glass, no one had come from there. Keen ears picked up the sound of someone moving in the water. They were close. Evidently they had entered the lake below him and to his right. He edged closer to the bushes of the blind. It took all his patience to keep him from pushing the branches aside for a better view. Instead he stepped up onto a root for a higher vantage.

The blind hiding him obscured his view. She stood waist deep in the water. Her midriff was toned and athletic. What little he could see told him her breasts were small but well formed. Head and shoulders were hidden by the foliage. The girl turned to look behind her as she emerged into full view. At that moment the morning sun peeked over the water fall; its first rays bringing light to red hair.

A mane of auburn hair flowed down to the middle of her back. Thick and luxurious, it would have done any queen proud. He knew that hair. Ronman stood on tiptoe as she turned back to the shore. Her face was rounded and pleasing. Full lips intrigued his. The jaw line and cheeks would fit perfectly in his cupped hands. Now he tried to look at her…

His feet slipped off of Gawker's Root and flew out from under him. Momentum carried him through the blind. Flailing hands caught nothing, though a recently trimmed branch snagged his breeches. The breeches held on for a moment before they came off, permitting him to hit the rocky lakeshore with embarrassing rather than stunning force.

Ronman the Actuarian spat out sand as he sat up. The girl was near. Apparently the lake had a considerable drop off. Her left arm covered her chest. The water came half way up her hips. Pleasant as the view was, there was something else he had to see. There they were, full of concern, large, and a soft green.

"Eyes." He whispered.

"I beg your pardon." Her voice was light, even lyrical. "Are you all right?"

Ronman stood, trying not to sway as his balance returned to normal. "I'm fine. It takes more than a little fall to hurt an Actuarian."

Standing gave him all sorts of viewing potential. Her cheeks turned red and she began to back up. Quickly Ronman knelt, anxious to keep those eyes as near as possible. Much to his relief she stopped her retreat.

The girl broke the silence. "Actuaria? You've come a long way to peek at bathing girls."

"You, you knew about the blind?"

"You mean Gawker's Roost? Oh, sure." She smiled. "The hill women have known about it from the start. That's why they bathe at the same time every day, the late afternoon, and why they widened the end of their path across the way; they can make a more dramatic entrance that way. If you want privacy you come at another time."

"Like now." Ronman felt a little ashamed.

"Well, it's not the only reason I came in the morning. The hill women say the cold water increases the blood flow and grow the…" Shyness caused her to bring her other arm across her chest.

Understanding came to Ronman and his natural chivalry kicked in. "Hey, from what I saw, they're great."

"Really?" The appreciation on her face warmed his heart.

"Yeah. And anyway, girls are too obsessed with size. Not that size isn't important…" he began to stammer, "…it's just you…I'm more of a butt man myself." He rubbed the back of his neck. "That's too much information, isn't it?"

Her left eyebrow arched and her voice took on a note of challenge. "A butt man, huh? Did you look at mine? Did you? DID YOU?" Before he could answer her expression changed. "You like it, don't you? It's okay?"

"You, ah, really used the water and foliage to your advantage. I never got a chance to see. Looking at your hips, I'd have to say there's a bon-diggoty behind attached to them."

Her laughter thrilled him. "Have you been to Middletonia? You sound like a friend of mine." She held out her right hand. "I don't believe you've told me your name."

Ronman's chest swelled as he presented himself. "I am Ronman of Actuaria: son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan and the Fearless Ferret Tribe." Before he could reach her hand the branch above let go of his breeches. They covered his head.

"Oh, man! Even when I meet my dream girl!"

"Dream?" The auburn haired beauty started, almost dropping her left arm in surprise. "Did you say dream?"

Ronman was stunned. "Yes, I've seen that hair, and those eyes. But that's all I've seen! I thought I was, er doing more than that once, but someone told me that was a demon."

"Well, I'm no demon." She grinned. "I am…"

The moment was broken by the brassy roar of a soldier's voice.

"There's the Red Kim. GET HER!"


	9. Red Nailed

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

Thanks to King in Yellow, MrDrP, Sentinel103, CajunBear73, screaming phoenix, Aeetos, Soth11, Katsumara, campy, Stubbs101, Isamu, daab2tksaol, bigherb81, Michael Howard, soulman3 and all the others who've joined the hunt.

**My lord had found her: the object of Drakken's wrath and fear and of his own deepest desires. But finding is not the same as having.**

Chapter 8 Red Nailed (?)

"GET HER!"

Blond and red head turned to see five soldiers, Barkane's entire squad, pounding along the shoreline. Ronman looked back at the girl, whose green eyes narrowed in concentration.

"You're the…"

Her hand shot out to grip his arm with surprising strength. She fairly exploded out of the water, his eyes shutting involuntarily as water soaked him. They opened just in time for a glimpse of _bubblicious _before she disappeared into a bush by the rocky outcropping of Gawker's Roost. The foliage shook furiously for a moment, and she stepped back out.

She was dressed now; at least she was as fully clothed as one could be when wearing a bikini of fine mail. Crimson boots reached up to her mid thighs, matching gauntlets covered her forearms. A belt and scabbard completed the ensemble. She reached to the scabbard to draw an elegant long sword. Ronman stared entranced at the deadly beauty before him.

_Kim Krimsom. Barkane's wrong; the 'k' isn't juvenile, it totally rocks!_

The first soldier reached the Red Kim, spear leveled. She knocked the weapon up and stepped aside. His momentum carried him past her. A crimson shod foot kicked out and drove him into the rock base of Gawker's Roost. The soldier slid down to the ground in a senseless heap.

Soldier number two struck out with his sword. Kim caught the blade with hers. A deft twist sent his sword tip into the sand. He back peddled from her furious attack until he fell into the Lake.

The final three attempted a coordinated attack. The two on the ends tried to flank Kim as the center man kept her busy. She slipped under his guard to drive her pommel into what was apparently a glass jaw. As he swayed Kim spun him to face the soldier coming up on her left. The maneuver caused him to bring his charge up short.

She turned to her right just in time to parry a thrust. An overhead swing followed, she caught it on her blade. Her opponent smiled as he bore down, thinking to use his weight to force her to the ground. Instead she kicked him square in the chest, sending him reeling back.

The man on her left attacked now, thrusting around his dazed comrade. She parried his attack with ease. Next he made a thrust around the other side of the human obstacle, only to be blocked again. On his third go she locked up his sword, spun him around and gave him a good smack on the rump with the flat of her blade.

Two red-faced men looked at each other. With a mutual nod they charged. Crimson gauntlets rested on the stunned soldier's shoulders as Kim vaulted into the air. Each attacker caught a foot in his face.

In the space of three minutes five attacking soldiers were reduced to three staggering men, one unconscious and one wet fugitive. Kim stepped to the sword standing in the ground. Her voice was imperious but not cruel.

"All right, weapons, armor, surcoats, right here." She motioned to the man against the rock wall. "His too."

Ronman put his breeches on while the soldiers removed their gear. By the time they had moved off with their comrade he was next to Kim.

"That was incredible!" he enthused.

Kim shrugged and gave him a little smile. "It was no big. They were just five soldiers who caught me stark naked in the Lake."

"Are you kidding? That sword play was badical! And they never told me you were a girl."

Her smile faltered. "They? You were with them?"

"Yes." Ronman suddenly felt small under her smoldering gaze. "But King Drakken…"

"Drakken?" She shouted. "He hired you to find me? How much did he offer this time?"

"A chest of silver apiece. But if I had known you were a girl I would…"

"You'd have what? Taken less? Demanded more? Or would you have been willing to take it out in trade?" She stepped forward, he stepped back.

"I don't hurt my own people." She growled. "But outland scum like you; hired to oppress and murder?"

The Red Kim settled into a deep fencing posture. Her left fist rested on her hip. The sword was angled up, pointing at Ronman's heart.

"You are so dead."

RB

"GET HER!"

Three figures jumped up from their seats at the morning fire. Ruthless shot a glance at Captain Barkane.

"Her?" The NSTMR snapped as he strapped on his sword. "You never said the Red Kim was a female."

"Never crossed my mind." Barkand hefted his cross bow.

"That's an important detail to leave out." Wadelin joined Ruthless in indignation. Suddenly he was concerned. "The Red Kim couldn't be Moniquity, could she?"

Barkane removed that fear. "Negative. The Red Kim is Middletonian. Light complexion, red hair, very fast with a sword."

"Why weren't we told any of this?" Ruthless demanded.

"It was considered need-to-know."

"We're hunting her; WE NEED TO KNOW!" The pink warrior rodent was red faced.

"I would have told you, but I just remembered myself." The Captain looked embarrassed as he cocked and loaded his weapon. "Sometimes it seems like I have a hole in my mind."

Ruthless and Wadelin exchanged confused glances. "Something's very wrong here." The Alchemist shook his head.

Barkane butted in. "You've got that right…the fighting's stopped. Come on! She'll just strip my men naked, but if Ronman's there…"

_She doesn't spare outlanders. _The mutual thought propelled the BBG to race behind Barkane up the trail.

RB

Ronman barely drew his sword in time to deflect Kim Krimson's lunge. Two more of her attacks drove Ronman against the rock wall. He ducked under a vicious swipe. Her long sword left a deep gouge in the stone. Drakken's nemesis whirled around as the king's latest hapless hireling ran from the wall for open fighting space.

They circled each other, moving around the pile of discarded gear. The Actuarian's mind coolly calculated the situation.

_Shrom, she's fast! And that footwork. She's beaten five guys today and she's barely breathing hard, why her chest…her lovely fair twin peaks of perkiness…they're harldy moving! You can see that drop of water…is it? It's going right down into the cleavage!_

"Abooyah!"

"What?" Kim hesitated, confused by Ronman's shout of triumph. The grip slackened on her sword and she was unprepared for his strike.

The elegant long sword landed in the sand. For a moment Ronman looked at it. The air around the keen edge shimmered like the air around his mother's forge. Runes literally ran along the blade. They seemed to float on the steel's surface, lining up as if to say something. Kim studied the line of runes intently.

Not knowing what else to do, Ronman held his sword out toward her.

Green eyes gazed into his. Now her bosom was heaving. Her lips parted slightly. One hand reached out to move his sword aside as she came closer. The other hand reached up to a shoulder, slipping the bra strap over. A soft, breathy voice escaped over full wet lips.

"I, I…"

She shuddered. The face, so soft with desire, hardened again in anger. The hand on his blade suddenly struck him hard across his face.

"I'll never surrender to Drakken!"

Kim did a back spring and somersaulted over the pile of gear. Quickly she rearmed. Twin swords twirled in her hands. Now a whirling, shrieking Fury fell upon the barbarian.

RB

The Breeches Bandit Gang and Captain Barkane arrived at Gawker's Roost in time to see a scantily clad girl slap Ronman before springing backward over a pile of gear. Their friend now battled an enemy who wielded two swords with the grace and power that few had with one. They watched the duel as it flowed across the sand.

Keen barbarian senses enabled Ruthless to grab Barkane's crossbow before he could aim it at Ronman's beautiful opponent.

"What are you doing?" the Captain stared at the NSTMR.

"He's in a duel. It's part of the Actuarian Code: you don't mess with the odds."

"But he's fighting for his life! He's your friend, your comrade-in-arms!"

Whiskers twitched. "He's more than that…he's family."

"And you'd let him fight alone? Maybe even die?" Barkane was incredulous.

Ruthless folded his arms and looked down at the fight. "It's a tough love."

RB

Swords flashed and clanged in the cool morning air. Their wielders sweated from the exertion. His heavier armor and maybe strength were Ronman's advantages. They paled in comparison to Kim's speed, skill and aggression. There was no way he could disarm her again. It was kill or be killed. As he steeled himself for what he had to do his mother's words came back to him.

"Not in the face! Not in the face!"

"Don't worry." Kim snarled. "I'm going for your throat!"

_No choice. _He made his lunge, aiming for the scarcely armored heart of the girl of his dreams.

She was not surprised. Twin swords locked his and pressed it down. He could feel her wonderful body strain. Ronman gasped as she soared over him, twisting in the air. Her boots landed behind him with a crunch. His back was utterly exposed to her next attack.

Ronman pitched forward before the double thrust could impale his kidneys. A foot planted itself on a mail sleeve on the sand. It slid out from under the boy's boot and he went down face first. He rolled over as she rushed him. Only a desperate parry saved him from the sword in her left hand. The one in her right hand sent his flying. It landed next to hers. Runes flickered, as if the first blade was consoling the second.

RB

The occupants of Gawker's Roost saw Ronman go down. Before Ruthless could spring through the blind Barkane brought up his crossbow. The NSTMR grabbed onto an arm.

"No! No cowardly tricks!"

"Don't call me a coward!" The Captain growled, hurling the Actuarian rodent back into Wadelin. A flailing pink arm struck the curious glass orb the Alchemist was preparing to throw. Poof! The BBG was encased in a white, sticky substance from the tops of their heads to their ankles. They fell over helpless to stop Barkane.

Barkane smirked as he turned back to the lake scene. Dash E'Lan was with him. His interfering comrades were powerless now. And the Red Kim had heard nothing. He aimed at the mane. Just between the shoulder blades, a little to the left. _Through the ribs and into the heart. _

RB

Kim Krimson advanced on her unarmed prey. The boy backed up until he lay against the lake.

"You don't have to do this!" he gasped.

Regret flashed across her face before the steel return to her soft features. Even now they entranced him. "Until Middletonia is free, I do." She pulled back the sword in her right hand.

Just then Ronman caught motion in the blind above her. A crossbow peeked out, aimed for his opponent's back.

"KIM!"

He acted without thinking. Before Kim could do anything he sprang up and pushed her away. Wild chance sent Barkane's bolt into the arm hole of his brigandine. Somehow it missed the boy's body, tearing through the back of his armor and forcing him back down to the ground. The bolt that should have killed the Red Kim now pinned Ronman of Actuaria to the Earth.

"Run, Kim, run!"

The barbarian boy's pleas fell on deaf ears. The Red Kim hurled a sword at Barkane. Swords, as everyone knows, make lousy missiles; it missed by a mile.

Massive arms easily pulled back the bow and reloaded the weapon. Middletonia's Captain took careful aim, not at all distracted by the beauty of his defiant target.

From the ground Ronman pleaded. "No! Barkane, don't! Please!"

He ignored the boy. "Red Kim, you stand convicted of waging war against His Majesty, Drakken; King of Middletonia. The penalty is death, sentence to be carried out immediately."

Ronman struggled to free himself as she stood waiting for her death. If her beauty excited him, her courage moved him. _If I could just get free…_

A metallic sound rang out from the blind. Barkane tumbled out through the blind and onto the ground below. Someone tossed a limb out behind him. Next a familiar voice called out.

"Now I remember why I didn't want you to go: I couldn't have you going after my BGFF."

The lovely dark form dove through the blind and landed after a double flip. Her smile was dazzling as she threw open her arms.

"Moniquity!" Kim ran forward.

"Kimala!" The two girls clasped arms and jumped up and down as they squealed with delight. Ronman was up by the time they stopped.

Moniquity gestured to Ronman. "Kimala, this is…"

"I caught his name earlier." Kimala smiled. "Moniquity, could you?"

"Of course, girl." She cleared her throat and assumed a formal air. "Ronman of Actuaria, Son of Dean and Barbara, this is Kimala, daughter of James and Ann of the House Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia!"


	10. Night in the Red Tent

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

Thanks to Isamu, Katsumara, bigherb81, Michael Howard, CajunBear73, King of Mantheren, Sentinel 103, screaming phoenix, MrDrP, Soth11, aedan cameron, King in Yellow, daab2tks, BlueEyedBrigadier, soulman3 for the reviews. I promise this one is not nearly so brief.

**And now my lord learned the secret of Middletonia and it was only one of the truths he encountered that day. Few things are as dangerous as Truth…**

Chapter 9: Night in the Red Tent

Drakken stepped out of his bed chamber and into the main room of the royal quarters. It was very late in the morning, but sleeping in was one of the many perks of being king. In moments he would enjoy another. The royal bath should be ready, any second now the door to his right would open and naked servant girls would out to take him and slowly lather his…

"Mother!?" The King stumbled back, desperate to hide the response his thoughts had triggered.

"Is this any way to greet your Mother? Jumping like she's an assassin?"

Calm again, Drakken redressed the faux pas. "Sorry, good morning." He hugged her.

"Good morning, son." Mama King smiled. "I brought you something." She pulled a small wooden object from out of her bag. "I found your Draxy-Waxy last night. He can go into your tub again!"

Drakken frowned. "Mother, I'm a grown man. When I look down into the tub, that's not what I want to see bobbing in front of me."

"But you've always loved it. And it'll keep the water warm."

"I'm King now, Mother. My bath water is heated by a system of…"

Mama King's voice rose. "I said it'll keep you warm!" Draxy-Waxy's googly eyes turned red and a jet of flame shot out from his insipid smile. "You can't have too much security."

"T-Thanks, Mother." Drakken took the seemingly harmless bath toy. "You always think ahead."

"That's why I still have one." She softened her tone. "And you need to use yours before you lose it."

"Mother, I've done nothing but plan." Drakken said defensively. "Within two, three years tops, the Tri-Kingdoms will be mine! Then no one will dare move against me!"

"There's more to being a king than foreign policy." Mama King reminded her son. "You need to secure the loyalty of your subjects. It's time you got married."

Drakken gasped. "Married? Mother! I'm a free man. Besides…"

"Come off it, I know all about your Lover Duckies, your Walking Bed Warmers, and your birthday gift from that tramp Shegoix. I'm surprised she didn't try to make a move on you herself."

"Actually we did give it a go but it didn't work out. I even cast a spell that let me grow flowers on my person so that I could give her one at any time. She said it made me look needy."

The old Fire Witch smiled. "Oh, my little Drewbie, such a hit with the ladies."

"But Shegoix…"

"Is no lady; she might be a fit bed mate for a wanted wizard hiding out in caves or tombs, but she has no place at the side of a king!" Mama King saw her son's expression and changed the subject. "Nobody holds your appetites against you. A king's supposed to have a libido too big for one woman, especially a queen. You can keep all your toys and get the girl.

"I've always let you go your own way. When you decided to go to the Middletonian Esoteric School of Sorcery instead of my old school; Witch Hazel's Academy for Malevolent Magic and the Occult, did I try to stop you? And when you declared a major in mind magic rather than elemental sorcery, did I object?"

_For a year, but it's better to lie. _"No, Mother."

"Of course not, and do you know why? Because I knew my Little Drewbie was destined for greatness. And now he's a great big king!"

Before Drakken could blush too deeply she went on. "Becoming king is easy, staying king is hard."

"I know it's hard." The scarred monarch agreed. "Why do you think I'm preparing for conquest? What do the people love more than a victory parade?"

Mama King had an answer. "A royal wedding or the birth of an heir. When your…"

"Nah-uh! We do not permit his name to be mentioned in our presence."

"Telling Mother 'no', and using the royal 'we' that shows some gumption. Way to be kingly!" She pinched his cheek with slightly heated fingers. "Point is, when he took over the Tribe, the first thing he did was marry the old king's youngest wife. Then he knocked her up within a month. The Tribe loved it, and he did the same thing with the next two tribes he took over. Now he has a full-blown horde behind him. What works with barbarians will work with civilized folk."

"You mean I should marry…" The king's eyes went bright with lust. "Good call, Mother! I remember seeing her after classes at MESS. Talk about hot!"

SLAP! "Listen with your ears, not you royal scepter! I said young. Ann may still be a scorcher, but she's too old. Now her daughter…"

"Kimila Possible?" Drakken recoiled. "She, she can't…she's young enough to be my daughter!"

"So? She ain't that much younger than the members of your get-me-laid brigade. She's limber as a lynx, tough as a tigress and as healthy as a horse. Your old roomie's girl should be up to the job." Warmth returned to her voice.

"And speaking of health how is my boy?"

"Oh, I'm all right." He sighed. "I'm just a little tired much of the time."

"Can't say I'm surprised." His mother replied. "That's some spell you're keeping going. Most usurpers just vandalize statues, melt down old coins and rewrite the history books; you've erased the House Possible from the minds of Middletonia! Quite an achievement and quite a headache to maintain. Altering memories is easier than erasing them. Just think how simple it will be to convince Middletonia you're the rightful king when you've got the old king's daughter standing beside you holding your child."

"And how will I do that when we can't catch her, Mother?"

Her smile chilled him. "Her kind always gets caught in the end. When we get our hands on her, you'll see what all I can burn out of a person."

"Do you think Barkane and the barbarians will bring her in?"

"Those clowns? Shegoix is right about one thing you ain't catching the Red Kim with hirelings. In a week or so Barkane will return without his arms or armor or henchmen.

"Just forget about all of that, Drewbie. Your bath is waiting. I told your girls to take extra special care of you. You've got a lot to plan after all."

His Majesty waited until his mother left before he went to the door of his bath. One knock and four naked young women emerged to giggle, coo, touch and fondle. He let his mind wander as they led him to the warm sudsy waters.

_Kimila Possible? Take __her__ to my marriage bed? After all the times she's thwarted me? Why, I would have become king years ago but for her, her…_

Suddenly all he could see was a lithe, fair figure with auburn hair and glowing green eyes. A figure that defeated minions, monsters and even a demigoddess until spells were undone and lairs destroyed: all due to that amazingly dexterous young body. The keen wizard's imagination soon stripped weapons, armor and clothing away. His mind changed. Not only was she fit for his wedding bed, no one else was worthy of the honor.

The split between mind and body did amazing things. When they were done 'cleaning' their king, the Lover Duckies praised his virility. For once, they were completely sincere.

RB

"Princess?" Ronman the Actuarian, son of Dean and Barbara, gawked at the smiling girl who had just moments before sought his life.

Moniquity put a hand on Kim's shoulder. "Yep. We're talking one hundred percent blue blood and silk slippers, best room in the east tower, combing her long hair singing 'someday my prince will…"

Kim gave her friend an elbow to the ribs. "Yes, I'm the daughter of the rightful king and queen of Middletonia. Drakken took the throne from us!"

"And if you're not a brigand, I'm guessing Moniquity, despite the bodacious climbing and pickpocket skills, is not a thief."

"Right again, cutie pie." The dark beauty grinned. "I'm the RBF."

"RBF?" Ronman pondered.

"Royal Best Friend. My Dad and hers met at a conference once. I came up to pal around and to give a girl some much needed fashion advice."

"Advice?" Ronman took in the barely clad vision in mail and crimson before him. "Good job, Moniquity! Was the outfit your idea?"

Kim's blush was most appealing. "The accessories were her idea but the armor was mine. It's based on what Mom wore when she was a pole dan…" Her eyes screwed shut and her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Lancer! Go Lancer! You know, as in the Go City Cavalry? It was her under armor wear. You can't have too much protection."

Ronman felt an instant kinship. "Wow! I fought against Go City's army just a couple of months ago. What color did your Mom wear when she served?"

"Uh, blue?" _C'mon, Mom's favorite color._

"Hegoic's command; she must have been awesome!"

"Dad does go on and on about her." Kim smiled her relief.

"So, if you're the princess, and your parents are the king and queen, how come we never heard anything about that in Middletonia? I mean, Moniquity couldn't even tell me why she didn't want me to go on this quest."

The Warrior Princess scowled. "Drakken has some sort of powerful memory charm going."

"I'll say." Moniquity joined in. "Kim sent me to spy on Drakken after she trained me in infiltration techniques. But the closer I got to Middletonia, the fuzzier everything was. By the time I made it over the wall, all I could remember was that whatever I was doing was illegal. That's why I took up thieving."

Kim Krimson pondered. "The spell seems to work on proximity; both physical and emotional. A BFF like Moniquity could remember for a long time and recover her memory quickly."

The approving gaze vanished when Kim's eyes went from Moniquity to the prone form of Captain Barkane. "But someone who finds your personality objectionable, who feels a prince rather than a princess, should be next in line for the throne, someone like that forgets faster and takes a lot more reminding."

Ronman's heart skipped a beat when she walked over to him. Every hair on his body stood on end when she whispered.

"Stand still."

She moved faster than he believed possible for anyone. Grabbing the sword she had planted in the ground, she touched it to the side of his neck. The blade came back with a smear of blood.

"Hide in those bushes."

Once the barbarian was obscured Moniquity began to nudge Barkane, none too gently. "Wake up, Captain."

The large man stirred. "Wha—I, what happened?"

"You mean you don't remember?" Kim asked as she knelt by the lake, swirling her sword in the water. "Or have you forgotten that; like you've forgotten us."

The Captain peered at her and his eyes widened. "Your Highness! Forgive me, I almost killed you!"

"It's no big. I think I could have deflected your bolt."

"That kind of flippancy will land you in real trouble someday." Barkane shook his head. "It's that sort of attitude that cost your family the throne. That and your…"

"Enough, Captain!" Kim's voice took on a note of regal umbrage.

"My apologies, Your Highness. I see my men's weapons and armor here. You spared them?"

"Of course; it's the barbarian's blood we're washing off of this blade."

The large soldier sighed. "Then I gather the Lake is his final resting place. It's wild yet peaceful, like his eyes. I'm sure he would've approved."

He shifted onto one knee. "I know we have had our differences, Your Majesty. But if you would let me stay I'd gladly fight alongside you to restore the throne of Middletonia to its rightful claimants."

"We appreciate your offer." The Warrior Princess sounded more regal by the moment. "However, we need you to deliver a message for us. Tell the Usurper to send more of our army against us: we need the equipment. And send more outlander hirelings: they enrich the soil."

"The Usurper will receive the message—and a knife in the gut if I can just remember!" He gritted his teeth. "Now, Your Highness, if you have no further need of me…"

"We're sorry, Captain, but we need all the equipment we can get."

He tossed his helmet onto the pile before undoing his sash. "If it were anyone else, they'd have to kill me."

"And leave the two outlanders on the trail. They're ours."

"One's just a boy, Your Highness."

"Old enough to fight. Old enough to die."

"That, Your Highness, is cold and heartless. I'm glad to see that some of what I tried to teach you has sunk in." He stood up.

She nodded. "Thank you, and Captain, leave their horses and gear. We need it all."

"Even the poultice Wadelin was working on for Drakken's toenail fungus?"

"Yearghhh." Kim Krimson shuddered. "You so may take that."

After Barkane exited the scene Ronman stepped back out. "Moniquity, were Ruthless and Wadelin up there with Barkane?"

She nodded. "They're sort of tied up right now."

RB

Ruthless, Son of Lovey Bits and Cheesy Whiskers, forced himself to relax. The strange material binding the NSTMR and the Youth from the Far South defied his greatest efforts. "What is this stuff, Wadelin? What was in that globe?"

"The spinneret of a Giant Jungle Spider, held in stasis." The Alchemist answered. "It traps its prey by shooting out a cocoon."

Ruthless gave another effort to move his forepaw. "I can't reach my dagger or yours. We'll just have to wait for someone to come by and free us. I wish we could hear more of what was going on."

"Since nobody can hear us, do you think?"

"No."

"But you said nobody can hear us." Wadelin continued.

"Hearing is the point." Ruthless' smile was as comforting as his incisors would allow. "The time will come. Soon. Then you'll understand."

Wadelin sighed. "So for now we just have to wait, for everything."

RB

Moniquity looked away from the trail Barkane had taken. "He should be back at camp with the others by now."

"Okay." Kim Krimson nodded. "Let's go up the other trail to free your friends, Ronman."

"Why don't we just climb the rock face? That would be quick and easy."

The auburn haired beauty talked while gathering the gear left by her enemies. "Gawker's Roost is an open secret. If the moss on the stones is ever disturbed like that, the deal is off and the women of the hills will have to find another bathing place. There's a path over to the left for those who want to do more than watch and be watched."

She turned and let out a whistle. A whinny echoed in the air. Ronman watched as a muscular horse with a blinding silver-white coat trotted out from the path. He shook out an extravagant mane and flicked a magnificent tail. The saddle, blanket and bags were all crimson. No bridle or harness marred the perfect face. Perfect, that is, except for the…

"Is, is that a horn on his forehead?" The Actuarian boy asked.

Kim Krimson's cheeks flushed. "Yes, he's a unicorn."

Moniquity chimed in. "The very best in VMOT." She quickly mouthed 'sorry' to Kim. Neither knew that the closest Actuarian word to Moniquity's 'V' meant 'very small child'.

The unicorn nuzzled Kim, sniffing carefully. "Ronman, this is my unicorn, Soars Lightly O'er the Heather. We call his 'Sloth' for short."

Ronman reached out to stroke the mane as golden eyes looked at him suspiciously. "Pleased to meet you, old boy." The animal gave a derisive snort. From Kim's reaction, Ronman knew it was not his imagination.

"Sloth, be nice. He's a friend." She reached down to pick up the first bundle of surcoat, mail, gambeson and sheathed sword, bound by a sash. One should have filled the saddlebag, but it seemed to slip in without taking up any space. Another disappeared much the same way. The Warrior Princess looked over at Ronman.

"Could you bring me my sword? Please and thank you."

He walked over to where their swords still lay. Carefully he cleaned the dirt off his before sheathing it. Now that he had the time he gave hers a closer look. The blade was of average width and thickness but Ronman had never seen so wide a blood groove. With so much metal removed the long tapered blade was as light as a much shorter weapon. Twin edges gleamed. The son of a smith, he knew keen steel when he saw it. Runes caught his attention as they floated along the shining surface.

"A Sword of Power." He whispered reverently. Something else caught his worship when he turned to see Kimila putting the captured helmets in the other saddle bag.

_Shrom, she's something! Smart, pretty, a great fighter and a princess. What are the chances that someone like me could get together with someone like her?_

Something tingled in his hands. He looked down in shock as the runes rearranged themselves. They transformed from unreadable Middletonian to Actuarian characters.

**I'd say 998,267 to 1 against. **

"Hey, it's less than one in a million." He replied buoyantly.

Kim Krimson walked over and took her sword. "Thanks." By the perplexed look on her face, she could not read Actuarian. She slid her sword into its scabbard. Now Ronman could see the pommel bore the shape of a war dog's head.

"Nice sword. Kinda talkative."

"Thanks. It's not reticent with its opinions."

"Reti…" He tired to follow.

"Royal Tutor word." The RBF laughed. "Kim just took the long road to 'yeah'."

"All right, guys, let's go free Ronman's friends." Kim Krimson started for the path. Two friends and a unicorn fell in behind her.

RB

Ruthless and Wadelin felt rather than heard people approach. They tensed as someone inserted a blade between their faces. It pulled away and suddenly they could see.

"Ronman!"

"Hey, dudes, you know I wouldn't leave you out to dry. That goes against the Actuarian Code of Conduct."

"I never worried about your conduct." Ruthless' beady eyes glittered. "Only your survival. But that rat Barkane, where is he?"

"On his way back to Drakken; naked, at least by his definition." Both Ruthless' and Wadelin's faces lit up when they heard and saw their comrade from the Tower of Darkness."

The NSTMR bowed. "Moniquity, a pleasure to see you again."

"Yes, a pleasure." Wadelin squeaked in agreement.

"Thanks, boys. Nice to be with the BBG again." The Queen of Thieves and RBF turned to the girl behind her. "Boys, I present to you Her Highness, Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia."

"An honor." They bowed. "Ronman," Ruthless twitched his whiskers. "I take it that we've changed sides. Was that prudent?"

Ronman's smile was a mile wide. "With Kim Krimson on your side the odds always look good!"

RB

Captain Barkane had followed his orders to the letter. The BBG horses and gear remained where they had left them. (Minus one bag, of course.) In addition the armor of the sixth Middletonian soldier awaited Kim. After loading it in her saddle bags she watched her new allies break camp.

"What's next?" Ronman asked as he chewed on some jerky.

"We aren't that far from the 'rents' place. Maybe they've come up with a way to beat the charm. At any rate, we need to provision."

"Sounds good to me." Ruthless nodded, enticed by the thought of proper baking facilities.

The Warrior Princess waited for Sloth to finish a carrot and then put her left foot in the stirrup. She lifted herself up gracefully, but before she could bring her right leg across his back Sloth whipped his head around to glare at her with his golden eyes.

"All right, all right." Kimila grumbled. With a huff she set her knee onto a cradle just behind the saddle horn.

"What's she doing?" Wadelin asked Moniquity.

Moniquity put on an accent. "Th' Princess is ridin' side saddle; it shows she's a ladah of qualitay."

Kim's look could have cut steel. "Just call your horse, Mon."

The RBF gave a call. "Felonious, come here girl." A chocolate mare came out of the woods, not breaking her stride as Moniquity leapt into the saddle.

"Head out!" Kim Krimson shouted.

RB

She led them to a surprisingly wide and well worn road. Birdsong came from the dense, cool forests on either side of them. Ronman was almost as enchanted with the land as he was the lady riding beside him.

"This is beautiful." He told her. "Like you."

"Thanks. The fam summer home is here. This is where we came after Drakken took over."

"Does he know you're here? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Nah, it's a gated, walled and moated community. Security is no prob." Kim replied easily.

"Besides, any army ol' Drakky would send knows who'd head up the defense." Moniquity rode up on the other side of Ronman.

Kim waved off her friend's praise. "Come off it, Mon. I'm just one girl."

"One girl who's mastered sixteen schools of fencing."

"You know what they say: a princess has to be twice as fierce to engender half the fear." The smile on Kim's face turned into a scowl. "Fortunately, that's not that hard where princes are concerned."

"I knew a prince." The Actuarian chimed in. "Not at all fierce, wanted to be a music sensation."

"How'd that turn out?" The red headed princess asked with a wry expression.

"He turned to dust in the arms of dozens of admiring naked fans."

"Guess a prince has to be good for something." Kim snickered. "I mean, there's more to life than title, right?"

Her look unsettled Ronman. His hand went to the back of his neck, where it tried to rub away the nervousness. "Uh, sure. I mean, we don't have princes or kings or any rulers. We have Clan Heads and Chiefs, but that's different. Dad's a Clan Head, but no one has to do what he says. Even if he was voted Actuarian of the Year…"

The reins slipped in his other hand as he babbled under her gaze. His horse stepped up his pace, pulling ahead of the others. Ronman failed to notice.

"…mainly because he came up with the plan that sacked the city of…"

Suddenly his saddle twisted, spilling him head first onto the ground. A cloud of dust rose around the fallen barbarian. Kim slid down from her saddle to knell beside him.

"Are you all right, Ronman?"

"I'm…" the dazed boy looked up to see those wonderful green eyes glowing in a perfect rounded face framed by beautiful auburn hair. She was leaning over him, all but spilling out of her top in her concern. "I'm fine: all firm and round and squeezable."

Before the Warrior Princess could realize what Ronman was rambling about the other Actuarian stepped in. "Thank you, Your Highness. I'll take care of him now."

Kim stood up and unconsciously adjusted her bra. "We've traveled quite a way today. There's a nice clearing with a spring just up that trail. We'll camp there." She watched Ruthless walk Ronman away as Wadelin and Moniquity put the saddle back on the barbarian's horse. The Alchemist thanked the RBF effusively.

When everyone else had left Kim turned to Sloth. The unicorn's eyes looked away. Even in the setting sun she could see the sparkles around his horn. Lacking a bridle to pull on she took his small goatee into her hand and glared at him.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Somehow the unicorn looked sheepish.

"Uh, neigh?"

RB

For the second time in his life Ronman was in a girl's tent and on her sleeping pallet. Instead of white fur, this tent was lined with magenta silk. Tara's furnishings had been made mainly of antlers, bones and leather. Kim's were gold plated metal and satin. But whether made for civilized princess or barbarian seer, each tent housed a warrior, with racks for weapons and leather between the inner and outer layers of the structure.

Right now the warrior played nursemaid. "More broth, Ronman?"

"Three bowls with bread and fruit is plenty, thanks." The patient reclined onto the soft cushions. "I can't believe you pulled all of this out of that little saddle bag!"

"Well, you know what they say: 'it's neat to know somebody from MESS.'" The two girls laughed while three males blinked in confusion, until Wadelin got the joke and chuckled.

"I'm sorry, Ronman, Ruthless. It's just with Moniquity here it's easy to forget." Kim fluffed another cushion and put it behind Ronman's head. "Dad enchanted the saddlebags. He's really good at that sort of thing."

"Interesting, I never heard of a king knowing how to do something useful." Ruthless said before taking another bite from a cheese wedge.

"We're not your usual royal family." She smiled.

Ronman glanced out the tent's door. "Looks like the sun's going down. I'd better give you your tent back."

A soft hand pressed firmly against his chest. "You're staying here tonight. It's my fault you've taken two bad falls today. You'll use my tent until you're bedded—better! Better! Better! Better!" Kim's cheeks flushed crimson. "I need to go powder my nose."

"Coming with you, Princess." Moniquity followed Kim out of the tent.

Ruthless watched the women warriors leave. "They always go in packs. Well, Ronman, she's laying her plans, you better lay yours."

"Plans? Plans for what?" Wadelin asked.

"You think she'll come back tonight?" Ronman sat up.

Ruthless motioned to a bowl of dirty water. "You have a head injury, but she bathed you down to your stomach. And the way she toweled you off was…"

"Was what?" the Alchemist almost shouted.

"Absolutely badical." Ronman sighed contentedly. "Good thing I had that pillow in my lap. I was sporting a rude attitude."

"WHAT DO PILLOWS HAVE TO DO WITH MANNERS?"

"QUIET!" Incisors flashed as Ruthless roared. Wadelin shrank back. The NSTMR took a deep breath and held it. Finally he exhaled. "I promise I will explain everything very soon. I'm sure a summer palace will have some place where we can talk in private. For now, can you leave Ronman and me alone for a few moments?"

Despite Ruthless smile, Wadelin moved was relieved to exit the tent. The deadly rodent turned back to his friend. "She'll come back tonight, you know. The way she looks at you. Let's just say, if she were a hawk, I'd be extremely nervous."

"I am nervous." Ronman admitted to his closest friend. "Every time she looks at me my stomach does flips."

"That's why you need to have a plan. It will give you something to focus on. You'll want to let her know when she comes back that she's welcome to stay with you. Then maybe a little small talk. And Ronman, be careful about reading her signals, they'll most likely be subtle like Tara's were."

"Handing me her loin cloth was subtle?"

"Compared to Zita, Gimmea, Bonya or Shegoix she was positively demure."

"Gotcha. The Ronman is all about the subtle."

Before he could make a remark about 'Mr. Subtlety' a slight noise reached Ruthless' ears. "I believe it's time for me to go. Remember, use your brain and you just might win her heart."

RB

Kimila, Warrior Princess of Middletonia walked hurriedly from the camp with the Royal Best Friend in tow. They reached a private place where, as Ruthless would have predicted, no noses were powdered.

Reaching into her sash, Moniquity produced a pair of wire cutters. "Here, just take these and snip your mail the next time see him. That's about all you haven't done."

A glare vanished before it could even get going. Kim sat down with a frustrated huff. "Am I that obvious?"

"Pretty much. I've seen you lose your head before over a pretty face before. You almost killed me over Hirotaka."

"I'm glad we saw him with that Uppertonian tart before I could run you through." The Red Kim remembered with a hint of embarrassment. "And I did teach you fencing after that."

"I guess if we ever saw that girl again we could ask her if he would've been worth it. This boy is! Girl, that's one long, leisurely ride to Multiple-O Town."

"Is he?" The auburn haired princess looked up anxiously.

Moniquity's smile was feline. "Nice equipment and he knows how to kiss the Princess."

"Princess? What Princess?"

"The Princess."

Kim's eyes went wide before she shook her head vigorously. "No. It's more than that, Moniquity. The way he fought. He knocked the sword out of my hand! It was like the dream about him had come true…"

"Dream?" The dark girl sat down quickly to look into her royal friend's eyes. "You didn't tell me there was a dream! Details now!"

"It was a couple of months ago. I was on my way home to drop off the equipment I had gathered. There was small clearing with a large fairy ring. I put my tent in the middle of it for protection."

"And to seek a dream." Moniquity added.

"I wasn't thinking about love, but I was hoping for direction. It seemed like we were getting nowhere. Well anyway, I felt myself leave my body and walk into a mansion in a city. Something drew me up the stairs and past a guard to a door.

"I opened it and saw someone on the floor. He looked so alone. I lay down beside him. Oh, it was so good to hold him, but when he tried to touch me it was like I wasn't there."

"Physically you weren't."

"Good point." The girl smiled. "I could see an outline of his face in the darkness so I waited for the dawn so that I could see the rest. Light began to spill in from the curtains. He definitely had those ears, and those eyes! But before I could see his face…"

"The sunlight flooded his face and you couldn't see any more?" Moniquity's face was alight with anticipation.

"No. It was still in darkness. As the sunlight came in I felt myself being pulled away. I never saw his face, just his eyes."

"Kim." The eagerness in her friend's face was gone. "If his face had been obscured by sunlight I would have cut your armor off myself and lead you back to the tent. That would have meant he was your one true love.

"But all you saw for sure were his eyes! At best that means the road to love will have challenges. But at worst, at worst…"

Moniquity took Kimila's hands into her own. "You need to be careful, Kim. Do you have to pursue this?"

"Have you ever known me to back down from a challenge?" Kim's smile was not one of bravado.

"No." The RBF sighed. "But please be careful, Kim. He might still be your one true love, but the dream also shows he could be your death."

RB

The NSTMR scurried out of the tent and moments later Kim Krimson reentered. She bowed graciously.

"How are you doing, Ronman?"

"F-Fine. Never better heh heh." The boy sat up on his elbows and watched her with eyes that made her smile, and shift nervously from one foot to another. "And this is on bon-diggoty tent you've got here."

"Thanks. I'm glad you find it comfortable. It's important that you get some…rest. Do you need any more pillows? I think I can find some more somewhere."

"No, don't want to get too soft." He licked his lips, hoping the she did not interpret that as anything more than their being dry. "There's plenty of room in here for two."

"Oh, I couldn't do you…that way." She seemed to be biting her tongue. "I'll just get a few things and then go out on watch."

"But if you want we could set up a second pallet." Ronman struggled to sound calm. He wanted her to feel at ease. Clearly she was anxious, and he wanted her to relax more than anything.

"But that might lead to something wrong." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"How could anything with you be wrong?"

The smile was warmer than he could have ever hoped for. "That's so sweet! If you don't mind then, I'll set up after first watch."

"I could do that for you if you'd show where the stuff is."

"No, you need to rest." The duteous look was on her face but her eyes danced. "I'll be back in a few hours."

"Great! I'll be right here." The Actuarian for once played subtle and did not jump up to grab her. He realized he might well have tripped if he had. He settled for watching her as she turned and walked ever so slowly out of the tent. It was as if a dream were moving before his eyes. _Shrom, let this end where I think it's going._

He blew out the lamp and smoothed the blankets over him. It would be a while before second watch and he did not want to be drowsy when she returned. The barbarian's control over his body allowed him to sleep when his mind was a whirl with thoughts about what would happen when she returned.

The moment seemed to arrive before he knew it. Lupine hearing told him someone was at the tent. He recognized the silhouette as it stopped at the weapons rack. A long sword was set beside his. She removed her gauntlets and boots and finally her armor. Instead of setting about laying down another pallet she crept over to his.

His heart caught as she lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped in. She was soft, so soft. By the heat coming off of her as she settled against him he knew her skin was flush. Her breathing was quick and shallow. One leg lay across his, and he somehow did not gasp when he felt her loins against him. Clearly she was ready to take, and to be taken.

Cool hands rested on either side of his face. Just enough light invaded the tent to where he could see enormous green eyes. They seemed to be pleading when they caught his gaze.

"Love me." She whispered.

Love me. He had been asked to love, ordered to love, enticed and temped. But here was the girl who had haunted his dreams, and she was all but begging him to love her. That was not right. She had no need to beg anything of him. Ronman reached out to touch the auburn mane, Kim trembled as his hand brushed her hair. It started to settle on her shoulder when a metallic sound rang out.

Kim rolled away from Ronman, out from under the blanket and sprang up. Suddenly the tent was bathed in a baleful light. His eyes bulged as he saw the source of the light. The Warrior Princess seized her sword before it could plunge into Ronman's heart. Before the barbarian's mind could shift from the sword's danger to the amazing nude form in front of him, her clothes drew themselves on her.

The brief struggle ended with Kim Krimson holding her sword in her hands. Green eyes studied the blade. In a moment her face twisted in frustration.

"No! I didn't refuse him, I defied Drakken!"

She fled into the night with a wail. Ronman pushed himself up to follow when Moniquity blocked him from exiting.

"Let her go for now, Ronman."


	11. Song of the Red Kim

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: CajunBear73, Sentinel 103, spectre666, Soth 11, screaming phoenix, Katsumara, Wanderer3, Stubbs 101, Michael Howard, BlueEyedBrigadier, JCPhreak, MrDrP, Isamu, and aedan cameron. Always glad to hear from you.

**My lord was a strong man from a stern people. Cries of sorrow were all but unknown to him. But true strength lies in what fools call the soft places of the heart. **

Chapter 10: The Song of Red Kim

"Just let her go, Ronman."

Moniquity had her hands on Ronman's arms. Concern was written all over her face. Behind her Ruthless, Wadelin and Sloth turned from watching a path to look at him expectantly. He could see the foliage still swaying from where she had brushed by it.

"She'll be okay." The RBF used a soothing voice. "Kim just needs some time alone."

He was turned around and gently prodded back into the tent before he could think. The blankets were strewn everywhere and the weapons rack was knocked over. _Knocked over by the sword that tried to kill me. _For a moment he stood, then his brain: concussed by blows, addled by lust and maybe love and touched with momentary fear propelled him into action.

Ronman emerged from the tent, his face set in determination. This time he was dressed, yet still unarmored. His left hand gripped the hilt of his sword. The Queen of Thieves doubled back from her guard post.

"Ronman…"

"No, Moniquity. I won't leave her alone. Something tells me she's been alone too long."

Someone else tried to bar his way, planting his graceful bulk between Ronman and the path. Sparkles began swirling around the unicorn's horn. Sloth never expected the uppercut. The barbarian walked over the unconscious beast and into the woods.

"Let him go." Ruthless voice stopped Moniquity. He turned to Wadelin, but the Alchemist beat him to the punch.

"I know. I know. Later."

RB

Even in her distressed state Kimila's skills had not deserted her. Only his predator-sharp barbarian tracking skills enabled Ronman to stay on her trail. It wound through the trees, across a small stream, up a gentle slope and finally to a ledge.

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, sat on a log. The full moon's silvery light glowed on the fair skinned figure that clutched herself. Aside from the occasional sniffle she had finished crying. Whether from confidence or despair she did not turn as he walked up behind her.

"Can I sit down?"

"If you dare." was Kim's listless reply.

He sat down beside her without hesitation. The moonlight fell on her shoulder revealing the goose pimples. "Wish I had brought a blanket; you're freezing."

"Don't worry; I've got steel to keep me warm."

"That only works when you have flint and wood." He put his arm around her. Kimila gasped as the sword at her side stirred.

"This is as far as I'm going, you party-pooping yardstick." Ronman's voice was even, his expression dour.

Kim gave a small chuckle. The sword settled down as if returning to sleep.

"Prickly length of steel." Ronman observed.

"You have no idea." Kim Krimson replied wryly. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't warn you, but I thought that when you disarmed me that you'd won. That's what the sword said: that it was my call."

"So that wasn't a trick at the lake?"

"Oh Good Goddess, no. I intended to give myself to you, but then I remembered you were working for Drakken. What would you have done with me afterward?"

"What I'm doing now." He pulled her closer. She laid her head against his shoulder and sighed.

"It's been a long time since I've been this close to a boy. And tonight's the closest I've come to…you know."

"What?"

"Moniquity would call it gaining NLAV status."

"Okay, now you guys keep loosing me with the initials, especially this 'V'. What is that anyway?"

Even by moonlight he could see her cheeks redden. "A virgin."

"Virgin? I thought you were Middletonian."

Exasperation crossed her face. "Virgin: as in inexperienced, uninitiated, unexplored territory…a nookie rookie!"

"So that's what it means." Ronman nodded. "We don't have a word for it. It's really not that important."

"Easy for you to say. Try not getting any in an over-sexed world like this one."

"I didn't until the last winter right before I left home. Her name is Tara. She gave me the favor I wear around my neck to keep my armor from chafing."

"Tara." Kim repeated slowly as if ashamed. "Is she your wife?"

"No."

"Betrothed?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"We've been friends for years, but Seers marry within their tribe. I helped…er, helped unlock her potential."

"That was nice of you." The tone was playful.

"It was her idea. I just need to get back in two years and a few months to claim my kid."

"Child?" Kim pulled back. "She's carrying your child?"

"She's happy about it. So was her family. Last time I talked to her she had just gotten married."

"You talk with her? Isn't Actuaria a long way from here?"

"Visions. I get to hear what's going on at home. Most of the village burned this year during the Fire Juggling Festival. Tara's clan helped fight the fires and rebuild; it's one of the reasons you always invite another clan to attend."

That got a laugh. "Your people are so colorful."

"You should come with me when we go back."

"Come with?" her eyes lit up. "That would be great! Thank you."

Ronman sighed as she leaned against him. "So, how long have you had that steel killjoy?"

"A year. Not that I ever needed a sword to keep the boys away."

"I can't believe that! You're the most bon-diggoty babe I've ever met. Who wouldn't want a Warrior Princess?"

"You'd be surprised." A wistful smile crossed her face. "Like I said, we're not your typical royal family. The first born inherits the throne, whether boy or girl, that is, if you're deemed worthy.

"So I studied. I studied governmental theory, political philosophy, inter-kingdom relations, all the things you need to know to be a great ruler."

"Moniquity said you also mastered sixteen schools of fencing."

"There's always somebody out to take away the throne. I know every style from Ritual Dueling to Down and Dirty Street Fighting."

"Gotta say that two sword bit was badical."

"Thanks. It took a long time to learn that."

"So with all that skill and your sword, how did Drakken ever take over?"

"I didn't have the sword then and my armor was different too. Dad enchanted a bracelet that became a suit of armor whenever I was in danger. It was as good as the set that snake Shegoix wears."

"You know her? She's the one who selected us." When he saw her expression he decided to end that line of conversation.

"I know her, all right. She came with Drakken to take over Middletonia. One whack spell or monster or coup plot after another, all no big. I guess I got too confident, and too lonely."

The green eyes were glistening again. "Being a princess is one thing, dresses, grand balls, royal suitors, but being a princess who's going to be the ruling queen is way dif. Not many princes want to be a prince consort. The good ones want to be king. We had offers from kings who wanted to unload their problems onto us: loafers, cowards and worse. Prince Wally of Rhodighan? Now there was a prize!"

The Actuarian nodded in agreement. "Ruthless and me captured him early this year. Talk about a bogus ransom…OUCH!" Ronman rubbed the top of his head where Kim had bonked him with the pommel of her sword.

"That's for not killing him." As Kim returned her sword to its scabbard Ronman saw the runes running along the blade.

**Hahahahahahahaha**

"You know, for such a sharp sword you sure are ill tempered." He looked at Kim in shock. "I didn't know steel could growl."

"Let's get back to the story. I was so busy with studies and saving the kingdom that the Spring Cotillion was coming up and I didn't have a date! I mean, what good is saving the kingdom if there's no one to share it with?

"Then one morning a new boy showed up at school riding a great roan steed. He was handsome, strong, brave and soft spoken. I didn't care that he was the son of a minor noble to the west. He was perfect."

"_Kim."_

"_Yes, Eric?"_

"_That thing you do, all those quests? I think it's great. And I have a quest: to take you to the Cotillion."_

"_Uh, okay."_

"And I needed the distraction. Drakken was losing it, stealing ink, copies of the royal chronicles, which you could borrow in any library! He even kidnapped Dad, but when I rescued him he couldn't tell me what Drakken wanted. I just decided to leave it to Captain Barkane and go to the Cotillion with Eric.

"The night was perfect. We were dancing under the stars when Captain Barkane came for me. He was having another one of his 'it's too quiet' moments. Someone claimed the statues in the city square were changing. We were still talking when I heard the yells. I saw Shegoix carrying Eric off as a captive.

"We pursued her to Drakken's new lair at the edge of the city. Shegoix threw everything she had at me. Finally we locked blades on a bridge."

"_Hey, that Eric's kind of cute. Maybe when you're out of the picture I'll date him."_

Ronman shook his head. Having fought both women, he knew which one he would not want to face when she was mad.

Kim looked back to her past. "I knocked her sword out of that glowing hand and smashed my pommel right between her eyes. She was out cold. Then I saw him coming down the stairs to the bridge.

"_I didn't know you cared."_

"_Eric!" _

"It was just like a story, only it was the heroine rescuing the prince. I wrapped my arms around him. He touched my face and looked into my eyes."

"_Actually, here I'm Golem 901."_

"His fingertips sprouted scorpion tails; shadow scorpion tails. Everything went black."

"He was a golem?" Ronman's face screwed up. "Ewwww, you kissed a golem?"

"No," she whispered the next part "but I really wanted to."

"Uh, maybe that was too much information. What did you do next?"

Shame filled her face. "Do? I did nothing! I woke up chained to a wall. It wasn't the first time I was chained to a wall but this time it was so the catastrophe! If Moniquity and Barkane hadn't come and freed me I might still be there."

"_Come on, Barkane, we can still stop Drakken!"_

"_Negative, Your Highness. The Royal Family is barricaded in the Keep. I'm to take you to them."_

"Mobs ran through the streets shouting 'Long Live King Drakken' and 'Death to the Necromancers'. We barely made it to the Keep. The fam was already in Dad's study."

"_Come on, Kimmie, we've got to go now!"_

"_Dad, we can't run. We can hold them off! We have the Keep and the Royal Guard."_

"_Even if we could, we will not rest our throne on the bodies of our people. We're going to the old summer palace. We'll think of something there."_

"_Hurry, Majesties, we'll hold them off. What do you mean they've opened the gates, soldier?"_

"Dad said the spell and we escaped. I was at the summer palace without my weapons, armor or confidence. Two years of fighting for nothing! Drakken and Shegoix had won. It didn't take Dad long to figure out how."

"_You've got to hand it to him; this is some kind of sorcery. He didn't turn the people against us; he removed the entire dynasty from their memory! And he used my spell, __my__ spell, to alter every statue, coin, painting and book."_

"_But if he can do that, we can't beat him. It's impossible!"_

"_Boys, how many times do I have to tell you, anything is possible for a Possible. The three of us will get to work on his spell. Ann, you'll organize the castle and the countryside, we may be here a while. Kim, see to the defenses. If I know Drew, he'll try to end this soon."_

"Did he?"

"Yes. He sent a battalion of Middletonia's finest troops. They took one look at Dad and they defected."

"Then why didn't you just start back to Middletonia? You would've picked up men along the way."

"Drakken had sent men from the Palace Guard. They knew us. Seeing Dad triggered their memories. Most Middletonians never really see the king, just statues, coins and paintings. Drakken's magic had changed all of those to look like him.

"If we did march, sooner or later there would be a big battle. We were just going to have to do something else."

"But Drakken…"

"Yes, Drakken would. So I went to Nana's old study to read her books on strategy, tactics and military theory. I'm a good study; Drakken found out the hard way, or at least his mercenaries did."

She shrugged. "So he left us alone, aside from an assassination attempt or three. Mom got the area up and running, we get people fleeing Drakken's oppression all the time. We have all we need.

"But Dad and the Twevils can't break Drakken's spell! It's not Dad's area of expertise. We needed a way to break the deadlock."

Ronman's stare was penetrating. "We needed?"

"All right, I needed. There had to be a way to atone for my mistake, to make things right. And I found a scroll in Nana's books that told me what I needed to do."

Auburn hair shone in the moonlight. "It was a night like this. If left the castle for the battlefield where we had fought off his invaders. I had all I needed: a new copper bowl and a silver bladed dagger."

As she went on the moonlight seemed to intensify. "I went to the burial mound. After I took off my clothes and climbed to the top I filled the bowl and held it to the moon and sang."

"Filled it? Filled it with what?"

Kim reached behind her back, her eyes glancing to what lay at her left hip. "Don't get any ideas." Once the bra was loose she lifted her left breast to reveal a small silver-white scar.

"Heart's blood. I'm so glad we had a roundel. The blood boiled as I sang. When I was finished it was gone and I could see the Goddess' reflection in the bowl."

_*YOU SING A SAD SONG, CHILD. BUT TELL ME, IF I GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT, WILL YOU GIVE ME WHAT I WANT?*_

"_Yes."_

_*RAISE YOUR BOWL.*_

"She took the bowl from my hand and raised it to Her face. A single tear filled it."

_*LISTEN CAREFULLY, CHILD. I HOLD YOUR HEART'S BLOOD; AND WITH IT YOUR ABILITY TO LOVE. YOU HOLD MY TEAR; THE TOOL OF VENGEANCE. CHOOSE NOW, DO YOU WANT LOVE OR VENGEANCE?*_

"_Vengeance!"_

_*THEN TOUCH THE WATER. FOR YOUR HEART'S BLOOD I GIVE YOU THE STRENGTH, SPEED AND STAMINA OF HEROES. WHERE YOU ONCE HELD LOVE IN YOUR HEART YOU NOW HOLD VENGEANCE IN YOUR HAND. THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY TO RECLAIM WHAT WAS YOURS; YOU MUST LIE WITH THE MAN WHO DEFEATS YOU IN FAIR COMBAT. OTHERWISE UPON DEATH YOU WILL SERVE ME FOR ALL ETERNITY.*_

Ronman looked in awe at the slight girl beside him. "Epic. You sold your soul for vengeance."

"Pawned it, anyway." Kim replied softly. "I have the tools and weapon for vengeance, but I have to come up with the plan."

"And the whole love duel thingie…"

"The only way I get out of my end of the bargain. Otherwise…"

Kim Krimson rose and drew her sword, pointing it at the moon. The blade flashed before growing as dull as any ordinary length of steel. Something shimmered in the night air. In a blink it took form.

A woman stood beyond the ledge. The beautiful face was pale, bloodless and sparkled with frost. Her chest neither rose nor fell. Fine mail covered her statuesque form. At the same place where Kim's scar was she had a gaping hole in her armor. _She used a bigger blade than Kim._

His friend pointed to the apparition. "Ronman, Son of Dean and Barbara, this is Vivian."

"Vivian. That's a nice name."

The frosty face broke out into a cold smile. "My full name is Vivian the Vivisectrix."

He put his hand to the back of his neck. "Okay, don't know what the word means but you're creeping me out."

"If she hadn't caught me, you would know what vivisect means." Silver hair waved lazily as the ghost shook her head. "Kimila, I serve the Goddess by serving you. I am your weapon of vengeance. I am also your guardian; ensuring that no man takes by force or fraud what he has not won by right of victory."

Kim went up to the very edge of the ledge. "But he disarmed me! No one has ever done that, ever!"

Translucent hands turned palms outward. "And what did I tell you when I lay on the ground? It was your call. You could have lain with him then and there; it was a beautiful place. By the Abyss, you could have given him a rain check and run away! Instead what did you do? You stood and fought and would have killed him but for that idiot Barkane."

"I was not refusing him, I was fighting Drakken!"

"You are splitting hairs when you should be splitting skulls. You are steel, Kimila Possible. Already you are beyond fear, now is the time to move beyond pity to claim your revenge, and reclaim your family's throne."

"But, but there has to be more than vengeance and power! What about love?" Kim's face was desperate.

"Where there is life, there is always the possibility of love. But should you die pure, then the Goddess will drink the last of your heart's blood and you will become as hard and cold as any of her other tears. She already has a name picked out for you: Killer Kim."

Vivian the Vivisectrix faded as she spoke the name. A silvery mist floated back to Kim's sword, and it returned to its shimmering luster. Ronman looked at the mocking message of the runes.

**Barbarian, you would sleep with something this cold? This deadly?**


	12. Theology

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

Thanks to the reviewers: CajunBear73, Guns Knives and Napalm, Michael Howard, Sentinel103, Katsumara, screaming phoenix, bigherb81, Isamu, Wanderer3, keth1 and BlueEyedBrigadier, our Warrior Princess appreciates the company.

**Now my lord knew the lengths to which Kim Krimson would go for revenge upon her enemies, but how far would he go for a friend?**

Chapter 11: Theology

Brown eyes narrowed as Ronman of Actuaria took in the sword's challenge. The wild heart within him answered its cruel mockery.

_I've never seen anyone as deadly as Kim. But cold? There's nothing cold about her._

Indeed, the sigh of the one beside him could never come from anyone cold. "Vivian told me about herself that night on the mound. She was a sorceress of Old Boulder, robbed of a great discovery. No one would listen to a woman, so she made a pact of vengeance. After she killed the man who'd cheated her, she simply waited for the City Guard to come and arrest her. The judge asked her why; she gave him no answer. Since she was a sorceress they put her to death in such a way that no one could ever resurrect her. It took four days but she never said a word or cried out. 'No heart, no pain.' She said."

The soft green eyes looked into his. "I would do it all over again. Make the same pact, plunge that dagger into my heart, offer my soul. I'm willing to become a Tear of Vengeance if that's what it takes to free my people. But I want to remember life, love.

"Yet when I listen to Vivian, when I see her in my dreams, I know. My humanity will be stripped away a little at a time, until I'm just as cold and heartless as she is."

"Not if I can help it." Ronman stepped away from Kimila and up to the ledge. His sword rang as he drew it over his head.

"Shrom!"

The call echoed from the hills around them. He looked to see bewilderment on Kim Krimson's face. It only strengthened his resolve. Again he turned and called out.

"Shrom! Your servant has triumphed over the odds and now someone tries to deny him what he has rightfully won!"

"I'm not a 'what'!" Kim snapped.

"Gods kinda see us that way. But if the sagas are clear on one thing, gods love telling each other what to do. Shrom's one of the big dudes, He'll make your Moon Goddess see reason."

"She's not a Moon Goddess. She's…" The Warrior Princess rolled her eyes. "Go ahead, but this is a bad idea."

Kim's caution did nothing to dampen Ronman's confidence. He smiled broadly as clouds gathered in what had been a clear night sky. They formed the shape of a great mountain. A beam of light broke through and a massive figure emerged to stand beside the moon.

Ronman the Actuarian looked in awe upon his god. Shrom was of powerful build, mighty arms rippled with muscles as they folded across a chest covered with the fur of a thousand cave bears. His face was strong, his hair and beard were two shades of brown. A patch covered his left eye, while the great right hand was made of steel.

*WHO CALLS ME?*

_Be bold. _"I, Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe, call upon you for justice!" He made an open handed gesture at Kim. "I defeated this woman in open combat, which by her own vow makes her mine. She was about to give herself to me when her sword went and played steel blanket."

The single eye glowered. *NO ONE DENIES THE CHILDREN OF OLD BOULDER THEIR RIGHTFUL SPOILS! WHERE IS THIS GODDESS BLADE?*

Kimila stepped up beside Ronman. "I am Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia. What makes you think a goddess is behind this?"

*EVER KNOW A GOD TO DEMAND CELIBACY?* The god looked upon her approvingly. *SHE IS INDEED WORTHY OF AN ACTUARIAN: HER COURAGE OUTSHINES HER CONSIDERABLE BEAUTY.*

Kim found herself blushing furiously.

*NOW, WHERE IS THIS IMPUDENT BLADE?*

Kim drew her sword. Vivian immediately left the blade to float defiantly in the god's face. She did not flinch before His baleful gaze.

*GHOST, SUMMON YOUR MISTRESS!*

Vivian raised her arms and gave a cry as piercing as any Banshee.

"ELISTHAR!"

*OH, SNAP.* Shrom mumbled as quietly as a god could.

A second figure filled the night sky. She was slender yet powerful. The frost covered face was beautiful, marred only by a patch over Her right eye. As she stood to Shrom's right, Her good eye glared into His.

*YOU. I SHOULD HAVE KNOW. WHAT'S THE MATTER, NO REAL PRAYERS COMING YOUR WAY SO YOU'RE OUT TRYING TO GRANT SOME GUY A MULLIGAN?*

*THIS IS NO TRIVAL MATTER! YOUR SLAVE WOULD DENY THIS BOY HIS VICTORY! YOU HAD YOUR BLIND EYE ON THINGS AGAIN, DIDN'T YOU?*

"NO, AND EVEN IF I HAD, WHOSE FAULT WOULD THAT BE, BROTHER?*

Ronman and Kimila exchanged glances. "You're related?" he gulped.

"And you put her eye out?" Kim asked.

*I AM THE ELDER BROTHER.*

*BY FOUR MINUTES!* Elisthar turned to her follower. *AND THE CLUMSY OAF DID PUT MY EYE OUT.*

*I WAS RIGHT ON TARGET! WE WERE PLAYING 'SMITE THE BLASPHEMER' AND YOU FLINCHED!*

*I NEVER FLINCHED!* Elisthar snarled. *YOU JERKED YOUR HAND AS YOU THREW THE DART! MAYBE YOU HEARD UNCLE KNOR'S CHARIOT DRIVING BY AND GOT STARTLED. THUNDER ALWAYS MADE YOU JUMP, DIDN'T IT, SHELDROM?*

"Sheldrom?" The mortals asked each other.

"Jinx! You owe me a cup of wine." Kim smiled.

Shrom was angered, and the earth shook, and fire and wind swept over the ledge causing Ronman and Kimila to dive for cover behind the log.

*IT'S SHROM NOW! AND I HAVE AN ENTIRE NATION OF FOLLOWERS. WHAT DO YOU HAVE? A BUNCH OF BITTER LITTLE MISSIES ON THEIR WAY TO BECOMING GHOSTLY OLD MAIDS!*

Behind the log a princess grimaced. "He did not just call me 'little missy'. Ronman grabbed her before she could confront an angry god.

"Family issues. Maybe we should stay out of this."

Elisthar's cheeks heated enough to melt the frost on them. *I AM THE GODDESS OF UNIVERSAL VENGEANCE!*

"So, you put his eye out?" Kim called from their safe haven.

*NO, I CHOPPED THE OFFENDING HAND OFF!*

Now Ronman stood up. "What happened to your eye, Shrom? Thousands of Actuarians want to know."

*I LOST IT AT A FIRE JUGGLING FESTIVAL, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE STILL HOLD THAT INSANE THING.*

"Mom's said that a few times herself."

Shrom turned to Elisthar, His smirk one of divine proportions. *MOM AND DAD NEARLY MADE YOU THE GODDESS OF NIGHTLY SHOWERS, DIDN'T THEY, BETSTHAR…*

Actuarian and Middletonian flattened themselves to the ground as Elisthar brought a glowing silver-white sword down toward Her brother's head. Shrom caught it on the haft of His great double-headed axe. The skies filled with clouds threatening the storm of the millennia. Before it could break another voice thundered.

*STOP IT, KIDS.*

A third figure towered over the struggling pair. His craggy face was framed by shaggy blond hair and a full beard. Dark eyes held power but seemed almost expressionless. He shook His head and sighed. *NOW WHAT IS THIS ALL ABOUT?*

Brother and Sister knew better than to try to do anything but obey their Father, the Head of the Pantheon. They pointed to the log. He gave a tired smile.

*COME ON OUT, KIDS, IT'S SAFE NOW.*

Red haired princess and blond barbarian peeked over the log. They stood up at the god's urging. He pointed at Kim.

*HE DISARMED YOU?*

"Yes, sir. Nobody had ever done that before. Vivian said it was my call. I started to undress but I thought about Drakken."

*AND FOUGHT ON. HE DIDN'T BEAT YOU, KID; HE JUST HAD YOU AT A DISADVANTAGE. HE EITHER HAD TO TIE YOU UP OR RUN YOU THROUGH TO WIN. GLAD HE DIDN'T DO THE SECOND ONE; YOU TWO MAKE A CUTE COUPLE. BET YOU COULD TURN OUT SOME GREAT LITTLE HEROES OF YOUR OWN.*

Great arms pulled Shrom and Elisthar close. *HOPE THEY'D GET ALONG BETTER THAN THESE TWO. BOY IF YOU EVER GAIN THE ADVANTAGE AGAIN, PRESS IT! THIS IS A GIRL WHO'LL NEVER THROW A FIGHT.*

Next He looked at Kim. *AND REMEMBER, PRINCESS, IT'S NOT VENGEANCE YOU WANT, BUT JUSTICE.*

Next he looked to His own children. *COME ON, KIDS. IT'S MIDNIGHT AND THESE TWO NEED THEIR REST.*

Elisthar cleared her throat. *DAD, IT'S NEARLY DAWN.*

For the first time the craggy face was all smiles. *HONEY, I DECIDE WHAT TIME IT IS.*

The clouds cleared and darkness returned to the horizon. Two youths stood alone.

"I told you it wouldn't work." Kim shook her head as she sheathed her sword.

"No, you said it was a bad idea."

The Warrior Princess' sharp look dissolved into laughs. "Right you are, Mr. Barbarian. Now, let's go break camp."

"Excuse me, but it is midnight. Wouldn't want to insult the gods by not getting some sleep, would we?"

"No." a sudden yawn reminded Kim how tired she was. "I think Ol' Viv here won't mind us sharing a tent, would you, girl?"

The sword at her side sulked. Smiling, the two walked back to the quiet camp. They nodded to Wadelin as they headed for the tent. Once they were inside the Alchemist resumed puzzling over the night sky.

A second pallet went down on the tent floor, a cubit's distance from the first. This time she slipped on a short tunic before doffing her armor. He watched her settle in under her blankets. Green eyes fluttered as she looked over at him.

"Good night, Ronman. Tomorrow you meet the fam."

"Coolio." He smiled. "I can't wait."

"You say that now." She breathed. In a moment she was asleep.

He watched her sleep for a while. Dreams came to her quickly; at first she smiled, but soon there was concern on her face. Her hand crept out from under the blanket as though searching for something. Without thinking he took it into his. Fingers wrapped around his just like Hana used to do. And like his little sister, Kim sighed and relaxed.

"Goodnight, Kim."


	13. Secrets

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to Sentinel103, Katsumara, Wanderer3, BlueEyedBrigadier, bigherb81, spectre666, MrDrP, CajunBear73, screaming phoenix, Michael Howard, Isamu, daab2tks, whitem, King in Yellow, soulman3, keth1, Yankee Bard, and all the others willing to face the wrath of the gods for a laugh.

**And so my lord and lady did hear the wisdom of the Head of the Norris Pantheon. The question was, would they listen?**

Chapter 12: Secrets

For once the dawn did not come too early. Ruthless cooked breakfast while Moniquity went through her morning stretches and Wadelin gaped at her. When she was done she walked over and used a finger to close the smitten Alchemist's mouth.

"Go get some water while I wake up the sleepy heads."

Wadelin sprinted for the stream, running by Ruthless as he vainly lifted the water skins. With a sigh the NSTMR turned to Moniquity.

"He'll be back shortly."

The RBF and fashion adviser just smiled as she walked to the tent. She would have to deal with baby boy soon, but for now it was both flattering and fun. At the moment all her thoughts were focused on what she would find when she pulled back the tent flap.

Clasped hands stood out in the light. The sight warmed her heart. That same heart sank when she made out the distance between the pallets. As RBF and TBF Moniquity knew the details of Kim's pact with Elisthar; who else could she tell? Certainly not her parents, they would challenge the goddess and lose. The glum thoughts were pushed aside as her friend opened her eyes.

"Morning, Your Highness."

"Morning, Mon." Kim started to prop herself on her elbow, then she saw her hand in Ron's and settled back down under her blankets.

"Have a good night?" Moniquity's smirk was most suggestive.

"It was interesting."

"Interesting?" Ronman popped his eyes open. "It was epic! How often do you see THREE gods? Hi, Moniquity."

"Morning, Ronman. Didn't expect to find you under the covers; they say you barbarians have animal-sharp senses."

"We do. But we also know when a friend has our back."

Gentle pressure on his fingers got his attention. He smiled back at Kim. Moniquity took the hint and left, closing the tent flap behind her.

"So, do you have my back?" Her stare made Ronman's stomach do flips.

"By Shrom's steel hand you know it."

Her smile thrilled him. "I'd love to just lie here all day, but I need to get home. We're not far out; we'll make it in time for dinner."

"Sounds…eeeagh! Snake!" Ronman jerked his hand at the slithering beside it. He looked down to see a crimson gauntlet tapping his wrist.

"Sorry, I need my hand." Kim apologized as Ronman let go. Once the path was clear the gauntlet made its way onto her hand. Leather and mail rustled under the blankets. When she stood up and pulled off the sleep tunic she was fully dressed.

"That's badical! Did the Goddess give you that power too?"

"No." Kim replied as she walked over to the weapons rack. "Dad enchanted the outfit. He really didn't want me to wear it, but I explained I needed something I could put on quickly, or hide if I went somewhere in disguise. He agreed, so long as he could put this spell on it. At least he trusts me enough to let me trigger it. It really came in handy at the Lake."

She inhaled deeply. "Something smells good out there."

"Ruthless must be cooking." Ronman found himself drooling. "If you've got good stoves at your castle, we're in for a real treat."

RB

Breakfast was indeed grand. Few creatures can sniff out sweets like a Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat, and the not-so-little guy had been busy. There were wild berries and honey to go with the hot cakes and bacon. With no pursuers breakfast was leisurely. They broke camp a little before midmorning.

The road grew wider with each mile. Soon they came across a man on a wagon. He tipped his hat to Kim.

"Your Highness."

Not long after that a company of cavalry came up to provide escort. The broad road wound through the wooded hill country.

"Beautiful countryside." Ruthless looked around. "And perfect for ambush. I bet we have a hundred archers watching us right now."

"More like three hundred." A trooper to his right boasted. "We even have a ballista battery up there. Her Highness set up everything."

"Pretty, a fierce fighter, and a cunning tactician." The NSTMR leaned over to Ronman. "This one's a keeper."

A stone bridge spanned a deep and fast running stream. Soldiers and common folk lined the way and cheered as the party crossed. They were clearly in mountainous territory now. The Summer Palace rested on a hill which formed an island in the midst of a river. Generations of vacationing monarchs could not fully disguise the defensive nature of the castle. Workmen were busily removing superstructure that blocked lines of sight with their flammable bulk.

The castle guarded a valley well worth defending. Pleasant breezes rippled through lush wheat fields. Cattle grazed in orchards whose trees promised a bountiful fall harvest, while sheep dotted the hillsides. Children fished clear streams. Whatever they were doing, everyone stopped to wave and cheer their returning Warrior Princess. Kim was both flattered and embarrassed

"Popular, isn't she?" Ronman asked Moniquity.

"That's what happens when you've saved the kingdom a few times." The RBF stretched in her saddle. "Uh-huh! Warm food and a soft bed! Hadn't had nearly enough of either for a while."

She gave Ronman a playful look. "So, you in good with Kim, or should we practice our breaking and entering techniques later?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I'm uh, not exactly 'in' right now. Need to win a duel there but…"

"But you two are tight? I won't come between the two of you but if you need someone to talk to, drink with or do a little pickle tickle…with her permission, of course…just call."

"Thanks, Moniquity."

Massive iron-bound gates opened to permit the party on the span connecting the Palace with the valley. An honor guard lined the fortified bridge and fell in behind them. Another detachment waited just beyond the Palace gates. Their leader wore a surcoat much like Barkane's.

"Your Highness." He bowed.

"Captain Hobble, I've brought more warriors for our cause."

The grizzled soldier looked the BBG over. "They look useful. Did you pick up any more panoply, Your Highness?"

"Sixty sets…no, sixty-four, the patrol I hit last week was super sized." She slapped the saddle bags as she slid down from her saddle. "Where's the fam?"

"Your parents await you in the Keep. You know how His Majesty doesn't stand much on ceremony here."

The pretty face turned grim. "And the Twevils?"

"In the West Tower." Hobble's face paled slightly as he looked over his shoulder at a slender stone needle. Even the midday sun could not chase all of its shadows away. Kim's cheeks also lost their color. Shaking her head, she put a smile on her face before facing her companions.

"Come on, Ronman, Ruthless, Wadelin, I want to introduce you to the true King and Queen of Middletonia!"

RB

The street leading to the Keep boasted a surprisingly steep grade. Alchemist and RBF both felt it in the back of their legs and the only somewhat conditioned Wadelin was breathing hard. The mountain-born Actuarians paid no attention to the slope, neither did Kim. In the last minutes Kim told Ronman a little about her family.

"So your Dad wasn't first in line for the throne?"

"No, that's Uncle Slim, but he didn't want it. He went west looking for adventure. Now he's the lord of a band of horsemen. When we're ready, he'll ride with us against Drakken."

"And your Mom's from Go City?"

"Actually she's from Uppertonia. She learned her…lancing skills in Go City before settling in Middletonia. Dad used to watch her practice every day when he was student at MESS. He's always had an interest in all things martial."

Her eyes shifted. "Uh, Ronman, about the 'rents. They know part of my pact with Elisthar…"

"You mean the whole dueling virginity thing?"

She nodded. "But they don't need to know about the rest so could you?"

"Don't mention the selling the soul bit?"

"Please and thank you." Kim Krimson smiled a winsome smile. "Right now Dad is Elisthar's biggest fan."

A large door loomed in front of them. With a deep breath Kim grasped the great iron knocker in her crimson gauntleted hand. It made a deep booming sound as she brought it to the wood. Kim had barely released the hoop before the door swung inward.

Sunlight fell on a woman. The BBG gasped. They saw Kim's hair, Kim's face and Kim's complexion. Three things told them that this was not a twin: the eyes were blue, she stood a little taller and the tight fitting, low-cut dress revealed a much fuller figure. Kim repressed a sigh as she beheld the reaction of her newfound allies.

"Kimmie!" The woman wrapped her up in a fierce hug. After the embrace Kim turned to her companions.

"Ronman, Ruthless, Wadelin, this is…"

"Your older sister?" asked the Actuarian boy.

"Oh, I like this one, Kimmie." The voice was pleasingly smooth. "I'm Kimmie's mom, you can call me Ann."

"Er, thanks." Ronman swallowed. Calling an elder by their first name was something he was still getting used to.

She smiled at them all. "Come on in. I hope you're all ready for lunch."

Ann stood aside as the BBG and Moniquity entered. Ann gave the Queen of Thieves a hug before she rejoined the barbarians. Kim stayed beside her mother, walking alongside her as they went down the hallway.

"It's great to have you home, Kimmie."

"Thanks." She hesitated. "Mom, did you have to wear that?"

"What, this little thing?" Ann shrugged a motion that made her daughter glad they were behind the boys. "It's just something I threw on after your Father and I took our morning swim. We converted the upper cistern into a pool. Why have two cisterns in a castle in the middle of a river?"

_Okay, upper cistern. Never drink out of it, or look at it, ever again. _"But don't you two have a big sunken tub in your suite? I thought you did your morning 'exercises' in there."

"But the cistern has more room. He can stand while I demonstrate some of my old techniques. And variety is the spice of life. Once you start exercising you'll understand."

Kim was thoroughly crimson now. "Mom, I so don't want to be having this conversation with you!"

"Well I do. Now, while your Father can't hear." The lightness left Ann's voice. "I know what happens if you never meet your better in battle."

"How? It's not in any written source, poem or song."

"I knew one of Elisthar's Battle Maids. She was posing as a 'lancer' while looking for the man who had murdered her sister. I've seen the scar that only appears in the light of the full moon. I've watched the humanity slip away from someone's eyes. I never want to see that again."

Ann looked up at Ronman as Moniquity led the BBG up the stairs to the main hall and dining area. "So, could this be the boy?"

"I hope so, Mom. He knocked my sword out of my hand."

"Really?" Ann breathed. "Kimmie, no one ever did that, not even when you were just learning,"

"I know. I had to use the Twin Steel School to beat him."

Her mother could not keep the hope out of her voice. "Do you think he'll challenge you again soon?" She looked at the boy ahead. "I mean, big ears and hands, do you know about his…arsenal?"

"Mom!" But Kim found herself going on. "Actually, Moniquity says she's sampled the goods. She gives him high marks."

"He looks solid."

"Oh, he is! Sloth undid his saddle and he took a bad fall. I washed his face, neck, shoulders, arms chest and stomach."

"Good start. I'll make sure his room has a tub in case you two duel later."

Despite the weirdness of the conversation Kim found herself hoping. Then another voice intruded on her reverie.

"Kimmie cub!"

The BBG stepped aside as a man rushed up to hug his daughter. He was of medium height and build. The brown hair had just begun to lighten at the temples. His angular face was as pleasant as its expression. Brown eyes beamed at the red headed girl in his arms.

"Dad." Kim admonished gently. "You aren't acting much like a king."

"And you aren't dressed like a princess." He teased back. "While you're here do you think you could be a little more princess and a little less warrior?"

"After lunch?"

"Sure. Now, who are our new allies?"

Kim led her father by the arm to the BBG. "Dad, this is Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe."

The King had a good grip. "Actuarian, eh? A strong people: good math skills. And is this pink fellow your pet?"

Ronman shook his head. "Maybe when we bought him but not now. You don't own a Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat so much as you pay his food bill."

Armor clinked as the NSTMR bowed. "Your Majesty, I am Ruthless, son of Lovey Bits and Cheesy Whiskers. It has been my honor to fight alongside Ronman and now it is my honor to fight alongside you and your daughter."

"Nicely done." Wadelin whispered.

Ruthless smiled. "The pet store was next to a dinner theatre."

Wadelin turned back as Kim pointed to him. "Dad, this is Wadelin the Alchemist."

"Alchemist." The King's eyes lit up. "You might just be the key to everything! We'll talk later. Now, is everyone ready for lunch?"

The nods led him to open a set of double doors to reveal a large table piled high with food.

"Ladies first." His Majesty said with a bow.

Ann, Kim and Moniquity took their places. After them James sat at the head of the table. Ronman sat across from Kim while Ruthless sat to his right. Wadelin naturally sat across from Moniquity.

"Dad." Kim asked. "Where are the Twevils?"

"Oh, they'll be here in a minute. They said they needed to finish an experiment before lunch."

"Twevils?" Ronman looked at Kim.

She scowled. "Twin Devils! Don't worry, you'll see."

Just then a pair of boys ran into the room. They had their mother's eyes and rounded face. The hair and complexion came from their father. The two looked exactly alike, down to the robes: twin mirrors of mischief.

"Hi, Mom, hi, Sis."

"Tim, Jim." Kim braced herself for the teasing, but instead they turned to their father.

"Dad, what's the binding phrase for a Chaos Cobra?"

"Ka nama kaa lajerama. Why, Jim?"

"You're sure?" the other asked.

"Tim, my minor at MESS was Summoning, I know my Serpent Demons. Why?"

The Twevils looked at each other and back at their father. They spoke in unison. "Nothing. Gotta run!"

HISSSSSSSSSSS

The door flung open and something flew in on multicolored wings. Its hooded head swiveled toward the King and it dove at its target. James was almost nonchalant, raising a hand in its direction. The air around the hand shimmered. When the demon struck it there was a flash of blinding blue light and the creature flew back. Repulsed by its first target the monster flew at the slight girl to the right.

"Kim!" Ronman jumped up from his chair and drew his sword. The chair tilted back and fell, carrying the Actuarian with it. A leg caught the boy's breeches, pulling them down. The crash reverberated in the room.

The serpent's target was not distracted by the noise. Green eyes betrayed no fear to the burning red orbs or slavering fangs hurtling toward them. At the last moment she brought her sword up in a vicious sweep. Vivian the Vivisectrix shrieked her glee as she opened up chest, throat and split the demon's lower jaw. It sailed into a wall and crashed onto a table laden with crockery. Its trashing destroyed the pitchers and mugs before it dissolved into smoke.

"Sweet backhand, Kimmie." James smiled.

"TWEVILS!" Kim shouted. "Dad, are you sure they're not changelings? Isn't there some kind of test you can run? Touch them with iron or silver?"

Her father paid no mind to her rant, instead turning to his sons. "Boys, what have I told you?"

"No summoning new creatures without you being there." They chanted.

"Things like this are why it's so hard to find people willing to work in the Keep. Since there's no one here right now you two can wash the dishes…without magic. Now sit down and eat."

Ronman popped up sword in hand with breeches around his ankles. "Good job, KK!"

"Ahem, Ronman." His Majesty nodded at the boy's lack of total dress.

"Sorry, Mr. Royal P." He pulled up his breeches before putting away his sword.

"Kimmie, why don't you see about getting your friend a belt while you're here." He frowned as he saw the boy's smitten gaze at his daughter. "Maybe a full body belt."

While the King glowered at Ronman's eyes, the Queen smiled slyly at the lower region of Actuaria. She leaned over to Moniquity. "So, he knows how to put all that to good use?"

The RBF nodded. "Your Majesty, this is one fight your girl wants to lose."

Ann forgot the physical as she watched her daughter and the barbarian. Kim could be prickly; prince after prince had found that out. She had been so sharp with Crown Prince Wally of Rhodigan that Ann had found herself defending the insufferable twerp.

But now her Kimila was relaxed, talking and laughing with a boy. A boy who was not polished, not refined, not even civilized, a boy not at all normal.

_How 'normal' is Kimmie? How many girls her age carry the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders? How many blame themselves for losing a throne? And it wasn't your fault, Kimmie, it was ours. Our fault for trying to be respectable, normal._

"Ah c'mon, KK, never be normal!" Ronman shouted as he slammed his cup onto the table with enough force to send ale all over his face. Kim laughed and laughed. Ronman's face was natural, guileless.

Queen Ann smiled. She liked this boy.

And His Majesty seemed reasonably well disposed also. "All right, Ronman, Ruthless, Wadelin, I'll tell you everything I know about Drakken. But let's go to the den; it's a long story."

He rose from his chair and looked over at the heap of ruined crockery. "Pull yourselves together."

Three pairs of eyes bulged as they watched the shards rejoin to form mugs, pitchers and ewers.

"That's badical!" Ronman enthused.

"Just a little something I came up with to keep a certain set of twins from breaking the royal bank." The Twevils gave a weak smile as their father glared at them.

"Your range of magic is most impressive, Your Majesty." Ruthless noted. "We saw the tent and saddle bags yesterday."

"I don't want to wave my own wand but my major was item enchantment. The professors said they never had a better student. They even called me Jim the Enchanter."

Moniquity rolled her eyes and looked at Kim. "Uh, oh. It's gonna be a night of old school days?"

"Now, Moniquity this isn't an idle trip down memory lane." His Majesty took his chair in the den. A goblet floated into his hand. Similar cups welcomed the others. The door shut to close out the sound of dishes clattering and two boys grumbling. "I've done a lot of thinking while Kim's been out on her quest and I believe I have it mostly worked out. I know how Drew did it."

At this Kim leaned forward. She sat at Ronman's right on a couch. As she moved Ronman's hand absently brushed her hip. Suddenly Ronman jerked from the shock. Her sword would have snickered if steel could make that sound.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Even his iron barbarian will could not force his hand to make a fist. "In a minute."

Somehow the King hid his look of approval for Vivian. "The seeds go all the way back to our final year at MESS." He waved his hand and an image of four young men appeared. The rightful and wrongful kings of Middletonia were easily recognizable.

"Rhamesh, Chen, Drew and myself. We called ourselves the Magic Men."

"Magic men?" Moniquity could not keep the amusement out of her voice.

"Try to understand. We were young." James went on. "Rhamesh and Chen were both Elemental Sorcery majors. I was our Enchanter and Drew majored in Mind Magic."

"Mind Magic?" Wadelin scratched his head.

"You know; hypnosis, suggestion and the like. All good sorcerers know some but not many specialize in it. Most equate it with parlor tricks performed by fringe wizards. But Drew had the gift. I encouraged him, even when his mother tried to get him to major in elemental magic. There are two places you never want to be: with someone just beginning to learn a woodwind or elemental sorcery.

"Anyhow, it was the end of the semester. Finals were done and all that was left was the senior dance and graduation. It was the social event of the school year. The night came, and we were in the common room waiting on Drew.

_All right, where is he?_

_Easy, Chen. Drew said he'd be here on time._

_He'd better be, James. I don't like this. You're a good Conjurer, we could've had a hot set of Succubae._

_You'd have a good time tonight, Rhamesh, and a thinner shadow in the morning. I have confidence in Drew. He says we'll be the talk of the school tonight!_

"Just then he walked in with the smuggest look on his face."

_Hello, boys. You weren't worried, were you? James, you have the clinging fringes I asked for?_

_Right here enchanted them this morning. All the colors you asked for too. Why do you need these?_

_Because once the music starts, these girls will bust a move. And when these girls get going there's a tendency for wardrobe malfunctions._

"What came in?" Kim shuddered, imagining a set of poorly made golems.

"Not what, Kimmie, who. He had four Amazons with him, straight from the Tilting Field. It used to be Middletonia's premiere…training ground."

Ruthless looked at his fellow BBG members. "Never heard of the Tilting Field."

"It's been gone for some time." The King reflected. "It was a street over from the Slit Purse."

"The Slit Purse." Ann sighed. "That takes me back. They sent good business our way."

James decided not to reply to that. "We were the hit of the party. Now, I know what you're thinking, but that dance had a lot of pretty faces. A lot of students had summoned Succubae. There were nymphs and elves and one of the more punkish guys had a goblin."

"A goblin?" Moniquity grimaced.

"They aren't bad once you get past the green skin. At least the females have very small fangs. And of course there was a Necromancer with a vampire. Is there anything worse than blood breath?

"But we were the only guys with human dates that weren't cousins. We ruled!"

"Dad, you were seeing Mom at this time, right? Why wasn't she your date?"

Her mother's expression revealed that Kim had touched a sore spot. "I was on duty that night. Such was the life of a 'lancer'."

James took over again. "We were having a great time when Drew took things too far."

_James, mind if I borrow your date for a few minutes? _

_Sure, Drew. I mean you brought them here. What's the plan?_

_You'll see. Oh, girls?_

_Yes, Master?_

"Wait a minute!" Kim interrupted. "'Master'? He hypnotized them?"

"Well, Kimmie we are talking about a school for sorcerers, hardly the most socially adept groups of guys and gals. Most dates were bound or enamored in one way or another. The only thing you could not do was to buy a date."

_Girls?_

_Yes, Lord Drew?_

_Isn't it about time you two fought over me? Don't forget to lose your tops first. Nice! Now, girls there's plenty of…Hey, set me down! _SLAM! _Not like that! GET OFF OF ME! Yeowww! My face! My…my throat…can't…breathe…_

"Poor Drew." James shook his head sadly. "He forgot that while Middletonian and Uppertonian are the same language, they're two dialects with very subtle differences. He asked two Uppertonian girls to fight on him and hypnotized people are notoriously literal."

Wadelin was thoughtful. "So that's where he got the scar and the blue tinge to his skin."

"Drew was mortified. He left town that night: he missed graduation and never picked up his dragon skin. I had no idea what had happened to him until he tried to take over the kingdom during the MESS class reunion two years ago. He had taken his Golem minor to heart."

James rose. "You'll have to excuse me. Even a kingdom in exile requires some oversight. Kimmie, why don't you show our guests to their rooms? I'll be back in time for dinner."

RB

"Wow." Ronman looked over his room. He had not had a place to himself since he had to share his loft with Hana. While not as large as Shegoix's bed chamber, it was a solid comfortable room. The contents of his saddle bags were all but lost in the chest and wardrobe. He joined Ruthless as they walked around the great tub standing in the corner near the outer wall.

"I've never seen one inside before." The barbarian marveled. "We used the streams. Cold."

"I know how that feels." Kim commiserated. "I learned about that even before Drakken took over. Captain Barkane felt I needed to know what it meant to campaign in the field."

"You bathed with Barkane?" Ruthless asked.

"No. He stood watch while I did. I knew I could trust him not to look."

"Fill one of these with hot water and it would be just like the ponds around Mt. Hissensteam." Ruthless approved. "And it looks like you have a nice big bed."

Ronman and Kim looked sidelong at each other. She blushed while he cleared his throat.

"Well, I need to unpack my things." Kim excused herself and left.

"You'd need that sword of hers to cut the tension." The NSTMR shook his head.

"What tension?" Wadelin asked.

Ruthless made a decision. "Come on; let's go to your room. Between the stone walls and heavy doors I think it's time we talked. You'll excuse us, Ronman."

Dressing in his extra leather breeches and fur vest, Ronman went down to the den. His pantherish hearing caused him to turn as someone came to the room. He could feel his jaw drop.

Kim walked into the room in a pink gown. It was long, flowing and elegant. A gold band lay on her head, a ruby glowed from it. She smiled as he gawked at her.

"Dad wanted me to look a little more like a princess." Kim smiled.

Moniquity came up behind her. "Girl, you look anymore like a princess and we'll have a room full of talking frogs. Where are Ruthless and Baby Boy?"

"Having a talk." Ronman answered.

RB

Wadelin led the way into his room. Somehow he maintained himself. Now he would know.

"Sit down." Ruthless ordered. Wadelin readily assented. The NSTMR took a deep breath and looked at the young man with affection.

"Now, when the time comes that a male finds a female attractive…"

RB

ROARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Two girls jumped. "What was THAT?" Moniquity gasped.

Ronman merely shrugged. "Ruthless is telling Wadelin about the facts of Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat life."

RB

Wadelin peeked over the chair that had overturned with him. His eyes were wide and his expression one of total disbelief.

"He does THAT?"

Ruthless' fangs gleamed as he took in another deep breath after the roar. The glint of the incisors could not begin to match the one in his eyes. "No, the FEMALE does that."

"T-The female?" Wadelin's voice was small.

"Yes. She roars, she snaps and snarls! She stalks! She hurls things…" Ruthless' excitement rose with each word.

"But what does the boy do?"

"He recites love poems." He looked at Wadelin. "He ducks a lot."

"But what about me and Moniquity?"

RB

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

"Now what?" Kim asked.

"Now he's talking about humans."

Notes. Mr. Royal P's little phrase comes from Robert E. Howard's 'Kingdom of Shadows' a King Kull story. Good stories, DREADFUL movie.


	14. Dueling Hearts

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: CajunBear73, Katsumara, screaming phoenix, Sentinel103, BlueEyedBrigadier, Stubbs101, Wanderer103, Isamu, spectre666, whitem, MrDrP, soulman3, keth1, Dave 32 and all the readers. Mrs. Royal P appreciates all the compliments.

**Now my lord has met the family and learned more about his new foe. Meanwhile Wadelin has learned more than he ever bargained for. What use they would make of their newfound knowledge was anyone's guess.**

Chapter 13: Dueling Hearts

Ronman, Kimila and Moniquity all turned to the shuffling sound coming from the hallway. In about a minute Wadelin entered. He moved as in a daze. The face was tinged with green and his eyes had the haunted look of those who had peered too deeply into the Abyss.

"What's wrong?" Kim whispered to Ronman.

"I think Ruthless added the part on where babies come from." He whispered back. "He left that part out with me."

"Your father didn't give you that talk?"

"Sure, but I still don't understand what he said."

Moniquity shook her head before walking over to Wadelin. He shrank back against a wall. She put one hand on the wall and the other rested on his chest.

"Now that you've had the lesson, anything you want to apply, Baby Boy?"

"I…I don't think I'm up to it." He quavered.

She closed her eyes and smiled. "I'll handle that bit." Brown fingers began walking down his chest. When they reached his stomach the Alchemist pulled away from the wall and ran screaming. Moniquity folded her arms and grinned.

"That wasn't very nice." Kim glowered at her friend.

"Hey, check the name, TIA." The Queen of Thieves tossed her hair. "And he is sweet. Maybe when he's a little older and a lot richer."

She looked at Kim and Ronman. "Now, what are we going to do about you two?"

"Us?" the two asked. Again Kim turned to Ronman.

"Jinx! You own me a cup of wine."

"Oh, man!"

"Hey!" the Actuarian and the Middletonian turned to see Moniquity with her hands on her hips. "Are you two finished with the kid games? Can we get to the quest of getting our girl here some quality, Abyss, any rumpy-pumpy time?"

Kim reddened. "Mon, how many colorful expressions do you have for coitus?"

"Co..oit…" Ronman stumbled over the word.

Moniquity rolled her eyes. "Sorry, Kimmie's using royal tutor words again. And girl, I've got at least fifty ways to love that lever." She crossed her arms and bought a finger up to her cheek.

"With him, I'd start out with a very slow 'four' followed by a good bit of 'seven', no scratch that. Boy's good but I don't think he's experienced enough to last long that way. Go for some 'twenty-six' instead. Then a whole lot of…"

"Moniquity, you know what 'rune type' I am. I've got this little campaign mapped out." Green eyes looked over Ronman, and then began to falter a bit. "Down to the last tracing of my fingers along his…his…"

"His what, Kimmie?" The three jumped as Mr. and Mrs. Royal P entered the room arm in arm. Queen Ann arched an amused eyebrow as she awaited an answer.

The Warrior Princess thought fast. "His sword! Yes, his sword!" she motioned to Ronman and he drew it and handed it over to her. She ran her fingers along the runes of the blade. "Need to learn Acutarian."

"Yes." Mr. Royal P nodded while he stared at Ronman. "It's always good to know what those around you are thinking." The expression brightened. "Where's Wadelin? I sure could use his input on how to reverse the effects of Drew's subversion of the Pygmalion Project."

"You're armoring swine?" Ronman was stunned.

"Swine? No." James laughed indulgently. "It was my solution to our sons' destructive tendencies."

Kim growled. "Two years of wooden cups and bowls and plates. They broke every piece of ceramic and porcelain with their hexes."

"It wasn't that bad, Kimmie-cub, but still we had to do something. The Pygmalion Project was living clay, capable of assuming the shape and texture and finish of whatever ceramic or earthenware or porcelain you put it on. All it required was a trigger phrase to get it to repair any damage. We saved a pile of silver in crockery alone."

His Majesty twisted his mouth at the memory. "I never would have believed he was after that spell when he kidnapped me. All I remember is being suspended over a pool with a Krakken spawn swimming in it. Kimmie slipped past an enchanted, self-loading ballista and cut down a squad of armored golems before slaying the monster. But I couldn't tell her what Drew was after."

Admiration tinged his next words. "I never thought he could do an enchantment that powerful. What finally occurred to me is that he didn't. His minor at MESS was Golem Construction. He found a way to cross my enchantment with his golem magic. His spell could actually transmute the shape of anything while retaining the object's material composition. He used it to alter statues, paintings, coins and books.

"Drew has a gift beyond Mind Charms. He can see connections that no one else can. I encouraged that too." He bowed his head. " Look what it's done to my kingdom."

Ann put her hand on his shoulder. "Now, dear, don't blame yourself. No one saw this coming. And it's been nice to get away from the pressures of ruling the kingdom for a while."

"You're right, hon. It's been sort of like a working vacation." There was a gleam in his eye that made Kim wince. Mr. Royal P spun his wife in his arms, dipped her and then leaned in for a kiss. Ronman saw now that as low cut as the front of her dress was, it was nothing compared to the back. He could almost see the small of her back.

_Is that… _Before he could make out anything more James' hand reached into the gap for a better grip. Judging from the expression on Kim's face, it might have been up to something else as well.

Ann smiled at her husband when their lips parted. "There's something that rhymes with 'moon'. If we hurry we can be back in time for supper."

"Then let's not waste time." Sparkles appeared around James' hands and he lifted Ann and carried her away.

The long sigh in the room came from Moniquity. "I hope my man looks at me like that after twenty years."

Kim Crimson-face replied with a shudder. "I just hope I can get that image out of my mind within twenty years."

"Aw, c'mon, KK, it's kinda cute to see…" Ronman stopped as the vision came to him. Early morning and his mother was at the forge with a glow on her face that did not come from the fire. Nor did she absently lick her lips from thirst. In fact, now that he thought about it, it reminded him of when Shegoix…

"I still owe you that cup of wine, right?" He went over and filled the cups to the brims. "Here, Kim, Moniquity."

Kim smiled. "Thanks. Uh, Ronman, there are three of us and you poured four cups."

"They're small, KK, and I need a double."

RB

The Royal Ps were back in time for supper, looking very relaxed. Wadelin was back, a little more composed though he still avoided Moniquity's gaze. Also returned was a certain Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat who ate heartily from the King's table.

"So, what did you do all afternoon?" Ronman asked his friend.

"I was at the practice yard." Whiskers twitched as Ruthless answered. "There was a lot of tension to work through. After that I took a very long, and very cold, bath,"

Someone picked up on their conversation. "Do you think cold could be the answer, Wadelin?" King James asked his Alchemist.

"Cold might undo the work of his magic, but it would only do so much."

"Agreed, it would strain his memory charm but it wouldn't break it. That would require something else."

"What, Dad?" Kim leaned forward.

"We know!" The Twevils shouted in unison. Everyone looked at them.

"An Obliviaxx!" Jim nodded.

"A what?" His sister asked dubiously.

"A monster made up of the bones from the charnel pit of an old cemetery." Tim answered eagerly. "It carries a bit of the ghost of each bone in it, but it doesn't have a full memory of any."

"It strips the memories of those around it." Blue eyes danced with glee as Jim continued the description. "An hour's exposure to it and Middletonia would forget Drakken's entire reign!"

Tim grinned at Jim. "Anal nathrach?"

"Orth' bhais's bethad." Jim answered.

"Do chel denmha!" They slapped hands together overhead before their father could stop them. The table, its contents and occupants were all covered in a thick layer of hoar frost.

His Majesty took on a stern and kingly air. "Boys, how many times do I have to tell you? NO CHARMS OF MAKING AT THE SUPPER TABLE?!"

"Sorry." The Twevils' breath misted. "We can get rid of the frost. We have a little jinni from the Far South…"

"NO!" James took a deep breath. "And no on the Obliviaxx. They're too easy to destroy from a distance and too dangerous up close."

Kim repressed a chill and reentered the conversation. "You were saying, Dad?"

"Yes, I was saying that any charm this powerful has to have some form of physical enhancement. There's one sorcerer who might be able to help."

"Who, Dad?"

"Cyrus Bortelair, my old instructor in Advanced Enchantment. He was just a junior professor then but already very powerful."

"We've been to his Tower, sire." Ruthless spoke up.

"Can you get me in, guys?" Kim Krimson asked.

The question brought Ronman back from brooding. "Uh, yeah, no problem. No challenge for the BBG."

He fell back into his thoughts as she resumed talking with her father. Hot anger had cleared her face but frost still glittered in her hair. Frosty visions clouded his mind.

_The naked girl stood under the full moon amid the corroding weapons of a long forgotten battlefield. A giant figure extended her hand, returning the newly made copper bowl, now filled with a single tear. _

_*REACH INTO THE BOWL, CHILD. DRAW FORTH YOUR HAND.*_

_The girl pulled her hand out. She gripped the sword hilt. The tear transformed into a serpentine blade with runes flickering down its entire length. _

"_It's beautiful." The girl gasped._

_Elisthar nodded *THIS IS YOUR WEAPON OF VENGEANCE, MY NEWEST TEAR. I CALL HER KIM KILLER.*_

_As the goddess spoke the last words the sword dimmed and a ghostly figure stood before the girl. Her scant armor did not hide the open wound below the left breast. No breath stirred her chest. No warmth melted the frost from her face. And as she stood there, the last traces of green slipped away from the cold eyes._

"Challenge!"

Ronman started. Everyone was staring at him. James cleared his throat. "Nice of you to rejoin the conversation. Are you referring to the challenge of entering Bortelair's Tower?"

He was about to instinctively nod when his eyes took in Kim. No pink dress and tiara could hide the strength in that lovely form. The soft green eyes were filled with concern. He would not leave her to her fate.

"No." He rose carefully. The dinner party gasped as he drew and leveled his sword.

"Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, I, Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe, challenge you to single combat, with your love as the prize!"

The auburn haired princess bridled. "No one challenges me for my…did you say…love?"

"Yes, your love." His sword was steady even as he trembled in his heart. The trembling changed to fluttering when she smiled. She stood up and drew her sword which rested from her chair.

"Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara. I Kimila Possible, daughter of King James and Queen Ann, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, accept your challenge!"

When they touched swords the sound was not a clang so much as a chime.

Moniquity sighed, so did Ann. Ruthless wiped a tear from his whisker while James had something in his eye. The Twevils made gagging faces at each other and inwardly Wadelin (mostly) agreed.

RB

After supper they moved Ronman to another wing of the Keep. Duelists could not be in the same hall, it just was not proper.

Ruthless occupied the front room of the suite in his capacity as Ronman's Second. The NSTMR sat polishing a horned helmet provided by the castle armory. The brigandine was already finished, shining on its stand. If nothing else, Ronman would look like a noble challenger.

In his room Ronman worked on his sword. He was not sharpening the blade but aligning the edge. A notch or soft spot could cause injury. Once satisfied with his work he set the sword aside.

A knock brought Ruthless to the door with Ronman coming up behind him. Moniquity stood in the doorway dressed in battle gear.

"Good evening, Ruthless. I have a message for your Master."

Normally Ruthless did not like having Ronman referred to as his 'Master' but this was the language of Middletonian ritual combat.

"Good evening, Moniquity. This message is from your Mistress?" He took the scroll. "No poisons, hexes or enchantments I trust?"

"Nothin' but love." She smiled. "How do you like your new digs?"

"They're bon-diggoty." The barbarian boy enthused. "They're fit for a king."

"That's what they're made for. This wing was built for visiting rulers. You can't have two monarchs under the same roof: one might not wake up."

"I see your point." Ruthless said. "Rest assured our security is flawless."

"So's mine. Now, tomorrow night you'll be back in your old digs, Ronman. Hopefully it will be redecorated as the bridal suite."

"Bridal?" Ronman peeped.

"Da da da dum. Da da da dum." Ruthless hummed. "If you find that offensive I have plenty of other tunes."

"Bridal?" His voice cracked.

"What, did you think you were just gonna do a princess? That's just not done." Moniquity's voice filled with anticipation. "We'll have witnesses and a priest there, as well as the usual crowd that shows up for duels. Glad to see your armor's all polished: this is a formal occasion."

"Bridal?" Even iron Actuarian nerves have a breaking point.

Moniquity did not hear the last fearful whisper. "Get some sleep, Ronman. You've got a long day and I hope a longer night ahead of you tomorrow."

After Moniquity left; Ruthless turned to face Ronman. "So, do we flee?"

"What?" Fear faded from Ronman's eyes.

"I assumed you have taken stock of the odds and found them hopeless. There's no dishonor in avoiding a fight you can't win."

"Who said I can't win?" Like any barbarian, Ronman could be quick to take offense.

"Nor is it dishonorable to flee from a fight you don't want."

"Don't want? I want her…more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my life!"

"But you aren't sure you want to marry her?" The NSTMR continued to probe his friend's feelings.

"It's not that either. I mean, who wouldn't want to marry her? She's smart, tough, pretty…"

"And don't forget her tactical skills."

"Right, she's everything a guy could want."

"And she wants you. So what's the problem?"

"That's the problem! She's expecting this great warrior, a real hero! What if I'm not the I that she thinks I am? How could I live with disappointing her?"

"Ronman, no one has ever wanted to lose a duel as badly as she does."

"Oh, man! The duel! What if I hurt her or worse, what if I humiliate her?"

"Do you really see that happening?"

"Humiliating her? No. I just hope I don't make a fool of myself."

"Just save some of that nervous energy for tomorrow. And since when have you ever worried about making a fool of yourself?"

The blond barbarian's expression turned wistful. "Since supper."

RB

The upper room in the East Tower was indeed the best in the entire castle. Its windows gave the occupant splendid views of the valley and its surrounding mountains. Converted from weapons storage, the round room took up the entire floor. Some shelves bulged with stuffed animals, while others held books. Weapons lined one wall, grim testaments to the occupant's most recent obsession.

At the moment Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, sat in the center of the floor as she twirled Vivian the Vivisectrix. To the RBF it seemed as if the weapon was an extension of the red head's arm. _Like they're merging. _

Kim was doing more than practicing, she was planning. "You know, Mon, the duel's at sundown. We've got to claim the western corner of the field. That way he's looking into the setting sun."

"Kim, don't you think…"

"You're right, that's still leaving too much to chance. We've got some bronze faced tower shields in the old armory. If I get Captain Hobble to polish them he can put men on the walls and shine light into Ronman's eyes no matter which way he's facing."

"Uh, Kim, isn't that cheating? Cheating to win?"

"Winning? Yes. Cheating? How can you cheat in war?"

"It's not a war, Kim, it's a duel. And I thought it was a duel you want to lose." Moniquity's expression was dark. "If you're gonna let your natural Kimilaness take over at least don't hurt him, I'll take him off your cold hard hands."

Green eyes flashed. "There's nothing cold about me! I…" Kim's face fell. "Elisthar, you're right, Mon. I was trying to eliminate any chance of losing, even though I so badly want to lose. Why do I have to be so competitive?"

A line of runes gave an answer. **Boys come and go, but always there remains the discipline of steel. **

"Sheath it, Viv." Kim put her soul sword in its scabbard.

"You need to set that girl up with a nice, sexy axe." Moniquity grumbled.

"I'd rather hook her up with a smelting pot." Shoulders slumped as Kim sighed. "All the prep work's done for tomorrow. What do we do now?"

Brown eyes sparkled mischievously. "You could let me in on those plans you have for our boy. Like what you're tracing with your fingers and where?"

"No, I don't want to jinx things. Mom always says life is what happens while you're making other plans."

"Well, girl, I could tell you what we did. Might let you see if you need to change anything."

Despite herself Kim grabbed a pillow and hugged it close. "All right, Mon. tell me everything."

RB

Before he went to bed Ronman unrolled the scroll. He sighed in relief. Someone had translated it into Actuarian for her. _Hope it wasn't her dad. _He read.

**Ronman:**

**I can't tell you how happy you've made me. I've fought plenty of guys who were after me for one prize or another, but no one has ever fought me FOR me. It's so sweet.**

**You were the best foe I've ever faced. Just remember what the God told you. If you get an advantage press it. I can tell you I will. **

**Please win. There's something I really want to surrender to you.**

**Kimila, Warrior Princess of Middletonia.**

_Don't worry, Kim. When I get the advantage I'll press it. You don't ignore advice from the God of Two-Fisted Justice._

He took a deep breath over the scroll. "Smells of sword oil. Man! What a romantic girl!"

RB

Somehow Ronman made it through the day. Ruthless had prepared a sumptuous breakfast which the Actuarian boy devoured with gusto. Growing nerves made dinner less attractive. His second prodded him to eat more.

"Supper comes after the duel. You'll need your strength."

After dinner Ruthless went over dueling etiquette. ("Always apologize after the duel, if you do it during it's seen as taunting.") He also tried to help Ronman come up with a battle plan.

"So she likes it fast and furious."

"And don't forget acrobatic, she jumps and flips like nobody's business."

"Could be an interesting night." The NSTMR pursed his lips and nodded. "The shout worked last time. She may be watching for it at first, I'd save it for a tight spot if I were you."

"Save, right."

"Glad you're all stretched out. Looks like the sun's beginning to set; shall we go?"

Ronman stood up and checked his armor. The brigandine fit perfectly and the horned helmet Ruthless had secured complemented it nicely. His sword was polished mirror bright, its runes evoking Shrom and victory. Now to see if he was a fierce a warrior as he looked.

"Let's go."

They walked down the stairs and came to a door. Ruthless stopped. "This is as far as I go. I'll see you on the grounds outside."

When he left Ronman went up to the door and knocked. It opened immediately to reveal the King and Queen of Middletonia dressed in their royal regalia.

"Oh, here he is." Ann smiled.

"The Challenger." James' voice was warm as he reached out and pulled Ronman into the room.

"We're just tickled pink about you and Kimmie." Ann said.

James leaned in, his voice even. "But not too pink. Time for a dy to Ronman talk."

The Queen's expression was sincere. "We want Kim to be happy."

"If not, you'll be the subject of a deep sending spell." James noted darkly.

"Uh, how deep?" Ronman gulped.

His Majesty spoke every word quite clearly. "Abyss deep…Ronman."

"Hello." A sultry voice caught everyone's attention. They turned to the stairs leading from the east tower.

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, stood at the top. Her habergeon fell just above mid thigh. Its black links matched the leather gambeson underneath. The crimson belt stood out in dramatic contrast. Instead of the high boots she wore red calf length sandals. She also had discarded her gloves. Red enameled bracelets protected her wrists. Auburn hair was combed over the left side of her face.

"I thought I'd dress up for the duel. You don't mind, do you?" Her expression was as teasing as was her shrug.

All Ronman could do was stare. King James permitted himself a wry smile as he placed a finger under the barbarian's slack jaw and closed it. Kim giggled as she ran up, grabbed Ronman by the hand and led him down the hallway leading to the dueling ground.

King James gave a royal wave. "We'll see you on the field of honor. Have fun out there, kids. And Ronman, try not to do anything too abysmal."

The royal couple found his joke most amusing.

RB

Halfway down the hall Kim's mood changed. "Ronman?" her voice was anxious.

"Yes, Kimila?"

"There's something I need to tell you, about the duel." She let go of his hand and fingered her sword hilt. "I don't have to kill a challenger, but…"

"You maim them?"

"No."

"Leave permanent scars?"

"Only if they're rude." Kim looked back at him. "Vivian explained it all to me. Elisthar's Battle Maids are all…"

"Gorgeous and desirable like you?"

"Thanks." She blushed. "The Battle Maids have always had challengers, men who could just not resist the allure of the forbidden. Vivian told me she used that to make money by charging admission to her duels. But Elisthar couldn't have her maids always having to fight the lovelorn."

"So she…"

"If I win, I'll try to not to inflict too much pain."

They came up to the door. Kim took a deep breath as she put her hand on the door. She turned and hugged Ronman fiercely. Vivian vibrated in displeasure. "Good luck, Ronman."

"Thanks, and…"

"No. Don't say it." The Warrior Princess opened the door and they stepped onto the sand.

He blinked at the setting sun and then gawked at the spectacle. Hundred of people sat on bleachers just behind the fencing that enclosed the dueling ground. At the far end stood the royal pavilion; Mr. and Mrs. Royal P waited there with the Twevils. Moniquity and Ruthless stood on the sands in front of the royal box.

"Ready?" Kim whispered.

"Willing and able." He stepped off with her and they crossed the ground. Kim noticed with amusement that the roofs surrounding the field were lined with spectators. Her plan last night could never have been put into operation. In moments they halted before her parents.

King James raised his hand. "Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara, you stand here today because you've challenged my daughter to a duel, with her love as the prize."

Hundreds of women and girls sighed. A few men snickered and were slapped. Other men were more subtle with their bemusement, and not a few also sighed.

The King gave Ronman his most look. "Do you intend to go through with this challenge?"

Ruthless had taught him the response. "By my trough, I am."

"Troth." Kim whispered to him. "By my troth I am."

Ronman rubbed the back of his neck while he hurriedly corrected himself. "Troth! By my troth I am!"

Ann leaned over to James. "Don't fret. Every wedding has a flub somewhere."

"Don't be so quick to give my daughter away." He replied with a touch of protectiveness. Turning back to the pair before him he asked his daughter the next question.

"Kimila, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, do you accept the challenge, and are you willing to accept the consequences of defeat?"

"By my troth, I am." Again the women in the crowd sighed.

"Seconds, step forward." His Majesty's words brought Ruthless and Moniquity to stand behind their friends. "Do you both swear to stand by your charges, overseeing their safety and ensuring that they honor the code duello?"

"By my troth I am." Both replied.

"Kimila, as the Challenged, you have choice of which field you wish to defend. Do you defend the east or west field?"

"Neither. I choose the south."

The crowd gasped. Their Seconds looked at each other while Vivian did a metallic double take. Ann could not hide her smile. Never before had her hyper-competitive daughter failed to seize an advantage.

James' mouth twitched. "Then Ronman will defend the north field. Go to your stations."

The four moved to a box at the center of the north wall. Ruthless and Moniquity quickly looked over the other's charge to ensure neither had any hidden any illegal weapon on their person. Vivian was magical, but as Kim's standard weapon she was permitted.

At last Moniquity turned to Kim. "I know I'm wasting my time here, but can we resolve this without resorting to a duel?"

"No way, Mon." Kim looked over at Ronman. "Are you game?"

"The Ronman's all about the game. Let's get it on!"

The Seconds moved to their box to sit with the extra weapons and first aid equipment.

Once they nodded to the King he called out. "Assume your positions!"

They moved to the center of the field. Kim drew her sword and drew a line in the sand. Her hand went onto her hip as she settled into a deep stance. The exact stance she had taken the first time they crossed swords; the time he had come so close. A smile touched her lips.

"You're going down." She taunted.

"Really? I do know how."

Kim turned beet red. "I, I didn't mean it that way! I…"

He brought his sword down near the tip of hers. Vivian's tip touched the sand. Ronman tried to bring his blade down on it again, this time near the hilt when Kim stepped to the left and forward. Her lunge caused him to jump back. The red head's attack was direct and forceful. Stab after stab drove him back toward the Second's box.

The crowd roared all around them. A man called out. "Last call for bets! Forty to one against the Challenger."

Ruthless looked over his shoulder. "Give me forty silver pieces on Ronman". He scowled as he turned to Moniquity. "Idiot! Anyone knows it's no worse than twenty-seven to one. What kind of odds makers do these people have?"

_She's playing to my strength. _Ronman grinned. He let her advance, waiting his chance. Soon he saw her draw back for another thrust. _Just like Shegoix, let her thrust, then spin. All you have to do is set your blade on her shoulder and she has to surrender. _

Vivian flickered forward. Ronman started his spin when Kim somehow stopped her motion, pivoted and connected Vivian's pommel with his jaw. The cheek guard kept the blow from breaking bone but he could feel teeth loosen. The sensation intensified when he spun and crashed into the Second's box.

"Ronman!" Both Seconds and his opponent cried out.

His knees threatened to buckle. He looked at the two NSTMRs in front of him. "Ruthless, didn't know you had a twin sister."

"I hope he's talking just to you." Moniquity said.

"Ronman, you've got to snap out of it!" Ruthless snatched up a hatchet with an iron-bound haft and handed it to him. The boy took it and turned slowly.

"Hey, you can't do that!" The RBF grabbed Ruthless by the shoulder and turned him to face her.

"Paragraph Four, Article Six, Section Nine: 'Should the Second deem it necessary, he may augment his charge's arsenal without the permission of the Opponent or his Second."

"Let me see that!" Moniquity grabbed the rules from Ruthless and began to read down. While they disputed, the duel resumed.

Kim stopped when Ronman turned with his extra weapon. He struck out with the axe, catching Vivian on the iron of the haft. The sword forged by his mother came down, seeking to strike the Vivisectrix from his opponent's lovely hand. She pulled her blade free just in time.

Now it was Ronman on the attack. Dropping the School of the Raging Bull, Kim recalled her lessons from the master of the Crab School. She dropped into a deep crouch and moved to the side. They went in a wide circle of flashing steel. The crowd approved as everyone got a good view of the action.

Swords crossed again. Before Ronman could bring his hatchet into play Kim twirled her wrist and the sword flew out of the Actuarian's hand. Two blades wove elaborate patterns in Kim's hands. A slight smile was on her face.

Hoping to catch her distracted Ronman leapt forward with an over hand blow. _If I can just touch the axe to her I win. _Crossed blades stopped the axe and pulled back. The boy watched in shock as his second weapon was lost.

Kim batted the axe from one sword to the other. Finally she slapped it with Vivian at a target along the west wall. It quivered in the bull's eye. The crowd roared its approval.

"Now what?" Kim's Second frowned. "My girl's too good for her own good."

"Go hand to hand!" Ruthless shouted.

"Hands against swords, are you crazy?" Moniquity gasped.

"Only if she's not as proud as I think she is." The NSTMR replied.

Ronman spread his arms out in a wrestler's pose. Wrestling was a national sport in Actuaria, so much so that a wide-spread joke was the only true ruler in Actuaria is the Pain King. The boy hoped that he could borrow a move of the giant to achieve victory.

Two swords were planted in the ground. Kim moved with fluid grace, her hands empty. She ducked under his grab and now had Ronman's ankles. Goddess enhanced strength (again fair as it had been a part of her long before the duel) allowed her to begin spinning with the boy around and around. When she let go he sailed over the east wall.

Ruthless began reaching for a halberd when Moniquity shook her head. "Don't think any regular weapon's gonna work."

"I've got to give him something. What kind of weapon will work on her?"

Just then Ronman sprang over the wall. Barbarian hardiness enabled him to shake off the considerable damage he had taken at Kim's delicate hands. His fierce brain has found a new weapon. A large barrel was in his hands.

Green eyes went wide as she barely avoided being stuffed into the container. When he lifted it again she kicked his legs out from under him. The barrel went rolling away with Ronman stuck to its surface.

Roll, THUMP! Yeoww! Roll, THUMP! Yeoww! Roll, THUMP! Yeoww!

After three more rolls the barrel struck the wall and shattered. Kim picked up the swords and walked toward the pile of wood. The crowd gasped as a figure struggled to his feet, covered with splinters, one horn of his helmet upside down. The Warrior Princess looked stricken as she held his sword out to him hilt first.

"S' nice of you, thanks, KK." He swayed as he slurred. "Now get ready to lo…"

He collapsed face first on the sand. King James rose from his seat.

"We declare the duel ended! The winner is Kimila, Warrior Princess of Middletonia!"

The male half of the crowd cheered. The female half dropped their shoulders as they let out a disappointed sigh. Many were wiping tears away as they watched their auburn haired princess sit down beside her beaten foe and hold him until Ruthless and the stretcher bearers could take him away. She walked alongside holding his bruised hand.

"I'm so sorry. So sorry."

RB

Ronman regained consciousness in time for the post duel feast. A simple healing spell had his teeth reattached but the boy stuck to soup. It was the traditional meal of the defeated anyway. He watched as Kim was surrounded by people congratulating her on her victory. While she kept her eyes on him, she was unable to speak to him.

Ruthless stood and bowed to Kim and then to her parents. "My Master concedes defeat, and never had there been an enemy so pleasant to look up to." This brought cheers and toasts from the crowd. "However, my Master must now retire."

Slowly Ronman rose and bowed to the royal table. The forced gaiety on Kim's face fell away as he bowed to her. "Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Royal P, goodnight, Kimila."

"Goodnight, Ronman." Kim said. "Gets some rest."

"Intend to, need the strength for a rematch. Later, KK."

He ignored the snickers from the Middletonians around him and made his way down the hall to his room.

Fortunately Moniquity and company had not decorated the room before the duel. The tub was filled with hot water. Unlike the usual barbarians, Actuarians were fond of warm baths, courtesy of the hot mountain springs. Ronman had washed off before the feast, but still felt the need to soak the pain away.

"Go back to the feast, Ruthless."

"But Ronman…"

"I'm fine. You're missing out on some serious cheesage staying in here. Go have some fun." The NSTMR nodded slowly and left him alone.

Ronman rested against the wall of the tub and tried to relax. He had failed. Utterly. The girl who was depending on him had utterly crushed him. _Maybe if I…_

Hands touched his shoulders, working on the kinks and knots. He opened his eyes, embarrassed at being taken unawares, and hopeful at the same time.

"Kim?"

The beautiful face above him was dark. Moniquity shook her head. "You know she can't come in here. Some stupid hunk of steel won't let her. Now, let me work on you a bit."

Fingers moved with the strength and grace befitting the Queen of Thieves. Tension and pain ebbed somewhat. In a few minutes he almost had regained full movement in his neck.

"I need to work on your back. There's a built in stool in the center of the tub. Could you be a sweetie and sit on it?"

Ronman moved to the center. There was a rustle behind him, followed by the movement of water. In a moment he felt warm flesh against his back.

"Moniquity, you're naked."

"So are you." She replied easily. "Those leathers are genuine Coco Creations, no way I'm ruining them. Besides, I ain't got nothing you haven't seen, or touched, or fondled."

She rubbed his back carefully. After that she worked on his arms. Once done with them she reached to the side of the tub to pull a lever which brought out a board.

"Lie on that, Ronman."

"Moniquity, I'm not…"

"Just gonna work on your legs. I know she has your heart now. Nobody would've kept going like that if they didn't." she gave him a naughty smile. "Maybe I'll ask her if I can borrow you some night. It's custom where I come from for women to share."

For once her thieving skills had deserted her. The door to Ronman's room did not entirely shut when she entered, and another person who had left the feast early was watching.

Kimila, the Lonely Warrior Princess of Middletonia, felt her teeth grinding and fists clenching. Just as she reached for the door something stirred at her side.

She repressed a start. Vivian had never appeared like this to her before. The Soul of her Sword preferred to visit in dreams, or in runes along the blade. The frost covered face actually had a trace of sympathy.

"She is not betraying you tonight, but she will eventually." Vivian stopped Kim from entering.

"What about Ronman?"

"He's a man, they aren't loyal enough to betray. Just remember, no one, no one in this world you can trust. Not men, not women, not beasts."

Vivian drew Kim's sword and held it by her face. She whispered her next words.

"This you can trust."


	15. Dreams

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: Sentinel103, CajunBear73, Michael Howard, screaming phoenix, airwalker999, Katsumara, Stubbs101, bigherb81, MrDrP, King in Yellow, Wanderer3, soulman3, BlueEyedBrigadier, Isamu, Bob the Mercenary and all the others who cheered for Ronman from the cheap seats.

And we welcome Brother Bludgeon to the horde, doing savage duty as beta.

**Bitter indeed was the taste of defeat for Ronman, but victory held no sweetness for his opponent. Indeed, it rankled at Kimila the Warrior Princess, as did other things.**

Chapter 14: Dreams

Kim watched as Vivian faded. Just before the ghost disappeared Kim reached out and took the hilt of her sword. Whole again, the Soul Sword gleamed; painfully bright and wickedly sharp. Blue runes spoke to her.

**Watch and remember.**

Inside Ronman's chamber, Moniquity was now working on the Actuarian's legs as he soaked away the pain of his lost duel.

"Uh-huh, no man should be this stiff. Don't worry, Baby Boy, I've got tricks that'll loosen you up." Her arms moved underneath the water. Kim stood on tiptoe trying to see what they were touching. "How's that?"

"Zat's great. I…" Ronman's eyes fluttered. His head dropped back against the board and his mouth hung open. "Snarrrrk!"

Moniquity shook her head. "They usually fall asleep after the deed." She patted Ronman affectionately on the head. "You just sleep. Ruthless will come by and check on you."

She climbed out of the tub, dried off and dressed. The slightly ajar door unsettled her, but not nearly so much as the figure waiting on the other side.

"Whoa! I've said it before and I'll say it again: that belt and scabbard are much too intense to go with pastels. And that expression only works with armor."

Kim had her arms folded across her chest. "So, the Queen of Thieves was copping a feel."

"Is that what you think?" Moniquity put her hands on her hips.

"Your hands were wandering." Kim leaned forward.

"Girl, you know HIO. If I want a boy I grab him and take him!" Her right arm shot out and she made a pulling motion.

"You grab him." Kim repeated hesitantly. "And take him?"

"Take him! Like that." The dark beauty repeated her earlier motion and then relaxed. "I was trying to help the guy. He's going to be purple all over tomorrow."

"Because of me." The Warrior Princess leaned against the wall. "Stupid sword."

"Most of that was you, girl." Moniquity replied. "Except for the thing with the hatchet; that was all Viv."

The Soul Sword thrummed in acknowledgment.

"I, I get so competitive." Kim mumbled. "And I wanted him to win! He's mine and I'm…"

"Elisthar's!" The RBF's adamant shout made Kim jump. "If and until we find a way for our blond beauty to beat you fair and square you belong to Miss Frostface."

Kim's eyes were haunted. "I know. Every night after a fight Vivian comes to me in my dreams. She tells stories of war and revenge; she's trying to prepare me for what's coming.

"When Elisthar drinks the last of your heart's blood, it leaves a thirst that never goes away. A thirst you'll willingly spend an eternity trying to quench."

"You mean you become a vampire? You're carrying a vampire sword?"

"No. It's not blood you're thirsty for. It's love. You want to love but you can't remember how. So you throw yourself into vengeance because you can't believe love is as simple as a girl sitting under a tree while a boy touches her cheek."

Soft green eyes gazed at the closed door. "Everything I want is in that room…surrounded by a wall of steel!"

Moniquity watched Kimila turn and slowly walk away. There must have been a faulty chimney somewhere nearby; her eyes were watering.

RB

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, entered her room atop the East Tower. Servants had laid out her bed clothes and poured up a hot bath. She took off the pink dress and climbed into the water; trying to soak away the sting of victory.

Someone had left a scroll beside the tub. Kim snickered at the drawing on its case. _What sort of man would wear a tunic like that? _With her usual readings still on the shelf she opened the scroll and began to read. As she took in the story of a proud, willful and of course stunning beautiful noblewoman who needed only to yield herself to the simple yet totally hot man of the hill forge her face clouded. A cry escaped her lips but before she could hurl the scroll a thought came to her.

_We don't have anything like this in the Library. Some servant girl paid someone to teach her to read and then she bought this. The parchment, the calligraphy, the illustrations, this did not come cheap. She left this to help me and I was going to throw it out the window! Who needs Vivian when you're this cold already?_

Putting the scroll carefully aside she washed her hair. Like Ronman she was given enough time before the post duel feast to change and wash her arms and face. The duelists were supposed to be easily recognizable at the feast by the dust from the field. With the last of that dust and sweat cleaned away she dried off, put on her nightgown and wrapped a towel around her head. She climbed into bed with the scroll. Soon she found herself reveling in all its preposterous bodice-ripping glory. The long, long section of the consummation in a glen under the stars required a second reading.

_A glen like that would be nice. Or a pool like the one at the waterfall, NOT a converted cistern, never, never ever a converted cistern. I could also go for a nice tub filled with hot water or just a plain old bed like this one…_

She slipped the scroll back into its case and blew out her candle. Within moments she was asleep.

As feared when she opened her eyes in her dream she knew exactly where she was. It was dark, not from night but from thick clouds of smoke blotting out the sun. Something crunched underfoot. There was no need to look, she knew what made the sound, and sometimes she knew who it had been. Somewhere behind her a woman gave a last cry before dying. Rough laughter came from the direction; soon it grew closer as men walked among the bones. Even though she stayed still they seemed to know she was ahead of them.

"Over here, boys! A little thin but she'll do."

A burst of fear propelled Kim over the blackened bones and demolished buildings of Middletonia. Despite her litheness and detailed knowledge of where she was she tripped and fell hard. When she opened her eyes they looked into the face of a dead girl whose eyes seemed to look past her in horror. She could hear the men approaching.

She did not look up as she reached out for the hand that she knew awaited her. Cool fingers closed around her wrist as always, lifting her onto her feet. Kim gave a sigh of resignation as she opened her eyes to see…

_What in Elisthar's good eye?_

The sky above was a brilliant blue. Soft blades of grass cushioned her feet. A stream gurgled to her left, cool in the shade of great trees. On either side of the stream boundary stones faced away from each other in friendship. Birdsong replaced the leering calls of warriors.

Even more unexpected was the face. Instead of cold and colorless it was warm and glowing with life. Blond hair curled over slender shoulders. Blue eyes sparkled as they looked her over. The young woman wore a long dress but the bow in her left hand was not at all lady like. She extended her right hand.

"I am Tara of Actuaria, daughter of K'narrish and Marla of the Archer Clan of the Seeing Clawer Tribe. You must be Kimila."

Kim took the offered hand. "Kimila Possible, daughter of King James and Queen Ann, Warrior Princess of Middletonia. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Ann." Tara repeated. "My dad knew an Ann in Middletonia many years ago when he was a mercenary there. 'Ann the Awesome'. No." The blond laughed. "No way she could ever have become a queen!"

She titled her head as she looked at Kim. "So you're the girl who has my Ronnie so busted up."

"Busted?" The Warrior Princess' brows furrowed with concern. "I hurt Ronman?"

"You broke his heart." The Actuarian girl answered crossly. "What did you think would happen when you crushed him like that?"

"I didn't want to." Kim protested. "But I can't hold back. It has to be a fair fight; I have to put my all into it."

"I watched it; you put everything into it, all right. All your training, all your goddess-given strength, your Soul Sword and his feelings for you!" Blue eyes flashed. "At least one of you was worried about hurting the other."

"I was so worried about hurting him!" Kim snapped. "And I did want to lose. When he made that outside spin move: text scroll Serpent School, I thought I was going to be a half-step too slow. I could all but feel his blade at my throat…and his arms around me."

"But you moved like your undeath depended on it." Tara shook her head.

"I didn't know I was that fast."

"Did you know you were that brutal?"

"Brutal?! I…you care for him, don't you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The barbarian rubbed her swelling belly. "I've known him for as long as I can remember. He unlocked the door to the Dreamworld for me and I carry his child." She looked down and cooed. "Don't I, Darla?"

Kim watched with a mixture of amusement and envy. "So you know it's a girl?"

"I wouldn't be much of a Seer if I didn't. She'll be a beautiful woman, a great warrior and unless I miss my guess, a mighty Seer. She'll make her fathers proud."

"Fathers?"

The proud mother-to-be nodded. "You people use the term 'stepfather'. Kevin will be her Tribal Father. We married last month; he'd had his eyes on me for years. But Ronman will come to the Claiming Ceremony and, before everyone, embrace his daughter."

"Don't worry. He won't let her down." The auburn haired beauty found herself smiling with pride.

"I know. Now, come with me." The two women rounded a bend of the stream. Kim could see a blond head resting against the trunk of a smaller tree which grew from a rise above the water. A bow tilted in his direction.

"Go to him."

Green eyes widened as she saw the bare shoulder. "But he's…"

"Of course he is. He's asleep in a tub. And you're in your nightgown. Besides, I can read minds; what you two have planned requires considerable nudity."

Kim looked around. "But what about…"

"Vivian's not here. This is the Dreamworld. She's not here anymore than she was when you held him in your arms in Uppertonia." Actuarian stared at Middletonian. "It's what both of you want, isn't it?"

"But it's not real." Kim Krimson balled up her fists in frustration.

"Don't tell me the Dreamworld is not real! It's more real than anything you see with the waking eyes. From here I reach the Past and Present and…" Tara went rigid and her eyes glowed silver. "And there may not be another chance for you. Plans and Dreams and Schemes all are moving. Things now hidden will be revealed. And you will find out that all things have their limits, even the Strength of Steel."

Moniquity's warning came back to her. Kim was certain that Ron was the one in her dreams, but whether he was the love of her life or the bringer of her death was open to interpretation. She made her decision. _Even if it's only a dream._

Kim did not hesitate to put her hand on his shoulder. Brown eyes stirred and lit up as they drank in the sight of her. "Hey, Kimila. Nice to see you here. Tara told me you were coming. I should have believed her but it was too much to hope for."

"Never let go of hope." She knelt down beside him, all shyness gone. "Or me."

Ronman's heart almost stopped as Kim reached up and undid the bow and pulled the lace out from the top of her nightgown. She smiled and closed her eyes as he reached up and touched her face. _Something so simple. _Her breath caught as his hand softly traced the line of her throat and rested on her collar bone. Kim snaked her arm around his neck and pulled him in. The kiss was soft for a moment, but quickly became fierce and hungry.

Ronman's hand resumed its drift. Kim gave a soft moan as it slipped inside her gown. _Firm and round and squeezable, that's what he meant. _ Now her hands roamed over his body, going beyond where she had washed him previously. The more she touched, the more she wanted. Her gentle fingers stirred Ronman to his core.

His lips were at her throat now. She pulled his body next to her and climbed into his lap. His excitement ignited her body. Hands grasped her gown and began to pull it up. She lifted herself so he could remove it more easily.

"Don't stop." She gasped. "Be mine."

"No way I'd stop, KK." Ronman managed to whisper. "I'm yours. I'm…Ruthless."

"Ruthless?" her eyes opened in surprise.

"Ruthless!" He shouted in shock and anger. And he was gone.

RB

"RUTHLESS!" Ronman sputtered as he broke the bath's surface. The sudden appearance of the Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat had caused him to slide off the bench and beneath the water.

"The feast ended a short while ago and the serious drinking starts shortly. I just came to check on you. You were dreaming. Apparently the dream was quite inspirational."

"Wha…" The boy quickly sat back down. "I was with Kim. I mean, I was WITH Kim. Tara brought her to the Dreamworld."

Ruthless was apologetic. "Sorry for the interruption. Perhaps if you went to bed."

"Wouldn't matter. That dream is over." Ronman sighed, his arms rested on the lip of the tub. His cheek pressed against them as Ruthless turned to join the drinking.

"Man, this day has tanked all the way around."

RB

Kim sat bolt upright in her bed, her fists at her side. _Grrrr, of all the times to check! Why didn't Ruthless give him another ten minutes? _

Suddenly there was a knock on her door. It was her mother. "Kimmie, are you all right? I just thought I'd check up on you before going to bed."

The opening door caused Kim to look down. She could see the lace from her nightgown on the floor. Her top was completely open, and she could feel how her skirt was lifted almost up to her waist. In panic she pulled the covers up to her chin as the light from a candle made its way up the steps to her room.

"How are you doing?" Ann chose to ignore the lace on the floor.

"Uh, fine, Mom." Kim answered quietly.

Queen Ann sat on the edge of the bed by her daughter. Her eyes lit up when she saw the scroll. "A romance scroll! I didn't know we had any of these."

"Somebody loaned it to me." The embarrassed Warrior Princess used one hand to readjust her nightgown while the other held the covers up. "It's kind of silly."

"I used to read these when I was your age." Ann looked wistful. "Their settings were a little different."

"You never talk much about growing up." Kim watched her mother carefully.

"I guess I don't. Let's just say things were very different. Well, some things. But curiosity doesn't change, or love."

She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead. "I should let you go to sleep. Who knows what kind of dream you could have after a day like today."


	16. Bodies in Motion

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: Sentinel103, screaming phoenix, CajunBear73, Katsumara, BlueEyedBrigadier, bigherb81, whitem, MrDrP, King in Yellow, Michael Howard, spectre666, Isamu, keth1, and all the others who can sing along with the late, great Jim Corce, Um, um, um, these dreams. They keep me going these days.

**Even Seers miss some things, interruptions, for instance. But my lord's first love was correct; things were now truly in motion.**

Chapter 15: Bodies in Motion

Tara of Actuaria opened her eyes. Her trip through the Dreamworld had lasted almost the entire night. The talk with Ronman and Kimila loomed large in her mind. It had not been easy, but she found her possessiveness waned when she remembered their eyes when they talked about each other. His shout of anger and her cry of anguish had cut Tara to her soul.

After that she had spent the rest of the night at the River of the Future, scouting potential mates for Darla. The coming (next year) son of Felix of the Renton Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe looked most promising. There was no sign of any children of her old friend and his love.

_The future is never set, but the girl, her shadow was fading even as we spoke…_

A rustling of the sleeping furs caught her attention. Her blue eyes glowed as she looked at the face of the man sleeping beside her.

Kevin, son of Phillip and Donna of the Guberman Clan, was not the most imposing of men. His straight brown hair reached down over narrow shoulders. He was only a little taller than Tara and his build was not that of the stereotypical barbarian. If that image was of a towering hulk with arms like great gnarled tree trunks, her husband was a pipsqueak whose arms were birch branches.

_Birch may be smooth, but it's supple and surprisingly strong. _Actuarian girls were every bit as calculating as the boys. Muscle men were easy to come by, Kevin offered so much more. His face was as pleasant as his personality and he had proven a quick study in the arts of love. The boy also held her in total adoration. These were excellent qualities, not all readily apparent to the casual observer, but Actuarians took their observing seriously.

Her husband opened his eyes. The blue-gray orbs were alive with intelligence. They were the eyes of a cool appraiser of the odds, a master strategist. Already her man was a successful war leader; with a little help from her, of course. By Actuarian standards he was a catch.

"What time is it?" He asked lazily.

"Almost dawn, sleepy head. Are you going to make me watch the sun rise by myself or…" In response he lifted the sleeping furs. They shared a wicked smile. "No, I see you're up already."

The sun glowed warm on bare skin as the lovers relaxed some time later. Tara glanced around at the items Kevin had brought back from his first foray beyond Actuaria. Her father was right, gold made any place look better. She sighed contently as she lay in her husband's arms.

"What are you thinking?" Kevin asked.

"That impatience can be a nice thing sometimes." Tara turned around to where she faced him. That would not be so easy in the coming months. "The plunder season has only really begun, and yet you've been back for months."

"But I came back rich, thanks to you."

"I may have told you where the caravan was going to be, but the ambush was all your doing." Her eyes glowed with pride. "You scattered them so thoroughly that sixty guards each believe he was the only survivor."

"If all we had wanted to do was to slaughter them, there were a dozen places in the passes to attack. Letting them get out into the open, and then hitting them." His eyes took on the gleam that Tara found so sexy. "It isn't about blood…it's about fear!"

"I know you scare me." Tara teased.

Her husband laughed. "Nice gambit, but I know you. You don't scare. What do you want? I have thirty men who can be armed and ready to leave by midday."

"It's bigger than that, a lot bigger. You need to send a message to Chief North of the Fearless Ferret Tribe."

Her words caused Kevin to rise up on his elbow. "It's time?"

The Seer nodded. "Middletonia is on the march. If the Tribes of Actuaria stand by, Ronman will be their first victim."

RB!

"And you're sure Ronman's dead?"

Shegoix glared at Barkane, who stood naked (by his not fun definition) before the throne of King Drakken.

"The Red Kim never spares outlanders." The Captain replied stiffly. "It was the outlander's blood being washed off the Red Kim's sword."

King Drakken shifted on his throne. "So the Red Kim overpowered your men and yourself."

"I was not overpowered! I had the Red Kim dead to rights when I was struck from behind."

His Majesty graciously chose to ignore the outburst. "Struck from behind? More proof that our enemy is not acting alone. And the Breeches Bandit Gang has been wiped out. Pity, I rather liked the Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat Thingie. And I'm out of the poultice made by the Alchemist."

"Wadelin actually made more. We brought it back with us."

Dark eyes flashed with glee. "Oh, goody!" Shegoix cleared her throat and he resumed his regal bearing. "Well done, Captain. Take your men to the armory and re-equip."

"You mean we're going back out for the Red Kim?"

"No, we have bigger fish to fry." Drakken sat back on his throne. "We have always believed the Red Kim has had assistance. Now we know who's been helping our nemesis destabilize our realm."

He held up a scroll. "We received this from a group of nobles of western Uppertonia. They request our aid in removing the tyrant who sits on their throne. The fool has already abolished slavery there. Anyone capable of such an unnatural act is unfit to rule such a mighty city!"

Barkane's face lit up. "Sire, we're…"

The blue face broke out into an evil grin. "Yes, Captain, we're invading Uppertonia! General Shegoix will lead our army out in a week."

The pale woman looked confused. "Dra…Your Majesty. The army can leave tomorrow."

"What's the rush? Uppertonia's walls are still breached. We want to call up the reserve levies and, besides, our allies in western Uppertonia need time to rally their own forces. Remember, we won't be invaders, we'll be liberators."

_Yeah, liberating Uppertonia from self-rule. _A comely general in green and black armor bowed. "I'll see to the preparations, Your Majesty."

"Very good, Shegoix. Now all of you leave us."

No sooner had the doors of the throne room closed than a column of fire appeared before the throne. Drakken jumped despite himself.

"Now, is that any way to greet your Mother?" Mama King scolded, but she did so playfully. "Especially when she brought your favorite."

"Lava cakes!" the King skipped down the steps to take a small dark cake from the tray in her hands.

"Careful, Drewbie, they're hot."

Drakken seemed not to notice. He licked the molten chocolate from the corner of his mouth and sighed. "These are what we missed the most when we were on the run."

The old fire witch smiled. "So did my little Royal Drewbie do what we planned?"

"The orders are given." Drakken nodded his head. "But Shegoix is right: we could march tomorrow. And the reserves will take months to train up. We're giving Uppertonia advance warning."

"They can't do anything about it. Besides, it's not about them anyway. When you call up the levies, word will spread all the way back to Hidden Valley."

"And she'll come here to investigate!" Lust spread across Drakken's features. "Oh, ho! We'll be ready!" A disturbing thought intruded upon Drakken's triumphant mood. "But, won't James move on us as well? He only has a small army, but with our men attacking Uppertonia…"

"The levy can hold the walls against James. Not that they'll have to. Relax, Mother's taken care of everything." She held up the tray. "Have another cake. After all, it'll take a lot of energy to plan the invasion of Lowertonia."

"Quite right, Mother." He answered around a mouthful of chocolaty goodness. "By the time Shegoix takes Uppertonia, we'll have the levies ready to march south. Then let the world tremble at the might of the new Tri-Kingdoms Empire!"

Evil laughter echoed off the walls of the throne room. The various paintings, statues and tapestries of King Drakken looked on as the mad monarch laughed. Soon he was joined by this mother, who added her cackles to his booming merriment.

RB!

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, woke up in none too good a mood.

"Love." She muttered as she climbed out of bed. "A little love last night would have been nice."

The Princess made her way to the ribbon for her night gown. When she bent over to pick it up she absently looked inside the night gown at her own body. "It felt so real." She sighed. "I wonder if the rest of the dream would have been like that. I'm so…curious."

_Wait, that's the word Mom used. She thought I was…she thought I was…_

Kim's face blanched as it screwed up. "Ewwww! Ewwwww!" she quickly pulled the ribbon back into place. If it had been merely ice cold and not brackish, she would have plunged into the waters of last night's bath. Instead she reached for the most modest dress she could find; full collar and sleeves with a skirt that went down to the floor. That it was in mourning black made it that much better.

"Oh, EWWWW!"

Kim strapped on her sword belt. A tingle caused her to draw her blade.

**I had nothing to do with last night.**

"I know." Kim Krimson growled. "But I know who did."

RB!

Ruthless entered the bed chamber of his old friend. "Good morning, Ronman. I hope you're feeling all right."

"I'm fine." The face of Ronman the Actuarian was swollen and purplish. Both eyes were black. "Just need a little rest."

"I'm glad to hear that. Ronman, about last night…"

"It's okay. At least it wasn't as bad as the time Mom caught me and Jess playing 'leech'."

"Yes. She had a wedding feast planned within an hour."

A knock at the door cut their reminiscing short. Ruthless opened the door only to wither at Kim's glare.

"Morning, Kimila." The barbarian boy called out happily.

"Morning, Ronman." She smiled warmly.

The NSTMR seized his chance. "I think I'll let myself out."

A fair finger pointed to a spot on the floor. "Right here, and don't move." The condemned rodent obeyed, watching as Kim passed by him to sit on the side of Ronman's bed.

"How are we doing?"

"Much better now, thanks to some bon-diggoty eye medicine." Ronman sat up grinning. "And just you wait. In a day or two we'll go at it again. I know your tricks now."

Kim's smile faltered. "It won't be a couple of days. It will be weeks, maybe a month."

"But why?" Ronman was confused. "Don't you want to duel again?"

"Yes! If I could we'd go at it right now! I so want to pick up where the dream…" Her head snapped around to glare ballista bolts at Ruthless. In a moment she regained her composure.

"According to the Code Duello, neither of us can challenge the other until the loser's wounds have completely healed. That means every last scrape and bruise have to disappear."

"But you have Healers! My teeth are good as new. They could fix the rest too."

"They're only allowed to heal major injuries. Good dental health is vital." The black clad shoulders slumped. "Sorry."

"Hey, just some more time to plan the next duel, and victory negotiations. I have a plan now."

"As the defeated party I would have a long, long list of demands." Her throaty voice sent chills down Ronman's spine. She leaned in close, eyes closed, lips parted.

They jumped at the buzzing sound coming from Kim's side. Vivian clanged as Kim slapped her back into her scabbard. Ronman had to settle for a very friendly peck on the cheek.

As she left Kim stopped to tower over Ruthless. There was no avoiding those sharp green eyes. "You. Me. The exercise yard after breakfast." Instead of a kiss he got a hiss.

"You are sooo going to feel the burn."

RB!

The Royal Ps sent breakfast to Ronman's room. A hot bath was drawn and after a good soak he was rubbed down to help further work the soreness out of him. By late morning he was able to limp down the stairs toward the exercise yard.

"IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT?!"

Kim's challenge somehow carried through the heavy wooden door. It swung open before him. Four soldiers carried a large round shield at hip level. Stuck in the middle was a pair of pink legs and a tail. Ronman tried to bend down, but stopped with a wince.

"Uh, dudes, can you raise this? Thanks."

When the men raised the shield to eye level Ronman stepped up to the NSTMR who now was the strangest shield boss ever.

"Ruthless?"

"I've heard of 'with your shield or on it' but this is ridiculous."

"Why are you upside down?"

"She told them to carry me out this way. Believe me, nobody's questioning her orders."

"LET'S DO IT AGAIN!"

Ruthless shook his head in dread. "Get out there, Ronman. Lives may be at stake."

Sunlight poured in when Ronman opened the door. Harsh as it was, it paled in comparison to the auburn haired fury on the exercise yard. She wore her mail bikini and her war face. Men lay on the ground panting as she berated them.

"YOU'LL NEVER LEARN SITTING DOWN! UNTIL YOU LEARN THE STEEL CYCLONE THE HALBERD'S NOTHING BUT A TOY!" Upon seeing Ronman, she calmed slightly. "All right, watch closely, from the top."

Mouths hung open as she spun, twirled, lunged, parried and slashed with the large weapon, moving gracefully and forcefully across the sands. At times Ronman forgot to breathe as he watched the savage beauty. Perspiration glistened on her supple form. Once or twice her mail top failed to keep up with her movements. She did not seem to notice, and her soldiers dared not too.

Finally she charged the center of the field. She planted the halberd's butt in the ground, leaving her feet as it stood erect. Before landing she spun around the staff twice at full extension.

"Her mother could do that." An old soldier behind Ronman wheezed. "But it was a different kind of pole."

Kim now stood at the center of the exercise yard, left hand on halberd and right hand on hip. Ringing bells caused the men to relax and their Princess to scowl.

"Dinner bell. Go eat, clean up and be back at three bells." The moans made her snap. "If you'd practice when I'm gone we wouldn't have to do this! Or do you think we won't face Drakken again?"

Ronman watched as the weary men stacked their arms and headed for the mess hall. Kim set her weapon with the others before walking under the awning where she drank deeply from a bucket. She poured the remaining water over her head.

He beat her to the towel. "Let me help." Kim let out a long sigh as he dried her back, taking care to stop above her waist. There was no resistance when he turned her around and began on her front with a new towel. Again he avoided the danger zones, leaving glistening cleavage and that glorious space between her bikini bottom and her thigh high crimson boots.

"I'll get those." Kim Krimson's smile was sultry. She toweled off slowly, watching him through half-closed eyes. Fortunately his leather breeches prevented any embarrassing incidents. When she opened her eyes fully the monster of the exercise yard was gone.

"And I know what you're thinking. I'm not harshing on those guys! They haven't kept up with their drills. Even if Drakken never comes back here, we'll return to Middletonia and well…"

The softness had returned to those wonderful green eyes. "I'd rather be tough on them than kind to their widows and orphans."

"Gotcha, KK. Let's go get some dinner."

"I am hungry, and before you ask, I did not mean to do that to Ruthless. He was slow."

RB!

Shegoix shuffled into her bed chamber. Few activities are more tiring than stretching things out. Over the past four days she had done a day and a half's work. _Tomorrow we start a whole half day's work, got to make it last two days. _

"It's the looking busy that wears you out."

She walked over to the armor stand. "Off." Air spirits undid the buckles and removed the armor. Once all the pieces were in place on the stand they removed her quilted silk gambeson. A few garments more and she turned nude to the full length mirror.

Full breasts rose and fell with her breathing. Green eyes traveled up and down and across the image before her, alert for any flaws. There were none.

"Back."

She lifted her hair in order to see her neck and back. The mirror showed her what someone behind her would have seen. The view was splendid.

Shegoix got her figure, complexion and hair color from her mother. From her father came the wave in her hair, the emerald green of her eyes, the glow of power and a faint green tinge to the skin when she was tired or hurt or upset.

_Looks like I need some R and R. _Her tub awaited her, filled with warm, sudsy water. She stepped down into it and sighed. The box on the lip of the tub held a sponge and soap. Green skin turned to porcelain as the lather soothed away the day. Another gift from the Godlands, the sponge could relax or stimulate as desired. The demigoddess' eyes fluttered in surprise as she ran the sponge over her chest.

_Apparently I want stimulation. _

Muscles quivered with delight as she ran the sponge slowly down her body. In moments her breathing was shallow. Still she wanted more. A green glowing hand touched a panel next to the box. The marble slid back, and the rarest of simulacra emerged.

It was not rare because of detail. Indeed, it was the simplest of all. Nor was its material that exotic. _They say diamonds are a girl's best friend; but sometimes you can't beat ivory. _Its scarcity resulted from market forces. Most makers and buyers of those mystic statuettes were men and Solome, the Goddess of Female Self Pleasure, had little interest in men.

Ivory warmed to her touch. Shegoix brought the simulacra to her cheek and began the incantation. Languidly she slid it down her jaw line and traced it along her neck. The sensation was of lips moving along her flesh, with a little tongue or teeth at just the right moments. As it moved onto her shoulders the gentle play of fingers was added, becoming stronger when she ran it along her breasts. Ever increasing concentration was needed to continue the spell. Solome graciously rewarded Shegoix's efforts.

The spell's power increased exponentially as the simulacra touched her belly and made its way down her pelvis. Using the last of her concentration, the demigoddess spoke the final words of the incantation as the ivory touched her at her most feminine place. Her head went back, her back arched as she cried out.

In the hallway outside, guards smirked. Miniature wyverns flittered about in the room holding the Golden Brush of Vidal Bosley. Maid servants on the floor below looked at each other in envy.

The deliciously long sigh finally ended. Shegoix's hands were now empty, but she had not dropped the simulacra. Fully empowered, Solome had opened the doors to the Dreamworld. Already Shegoix's dream lover was taking shape behind and beneath her.

Instead of marble she sat upon firm, muscular thighs. One could wash clothes on the abs pressed against her back. The chest was broad and worthy of a hero, as were the arms. His hands were those of her old masseur, Midas, their touch as golden as ever. The left cupped and caressed her breasts while the right drifted down to bring pleasure to her loins.

Eagerness arose in her as she turned to face the composite man of her dreams. The face greeting her now opened eyes was new, not classically square-cut and handsome. Indeed, the rounded freckled face was a little goofy. But men can be so cute when they look like that, and the brown eyes were oh, so warm. His was the face she wanted, just as she desired his Essential Ronmanness as she took it in inch by girl-pleasing inch.

RB!

Three players sat at a small table in a room in the East Tower: a nearly naked Ronman, a half-naked Moniquity, and a not at all naked Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat.

Moniquity went first. "Give me three." She hid a frown as she put the new cards into her hand. "You've got to be cheating, Ruthless."

"But I only deal every third hand." The NSTMR said defensively.

"Yeah, but you ain't lost one of those. Good thing you're such a fine cook or I'd have to show you how a scimitar beats a full house." The girl picked up another snack and bit into it with relish. "I love these!"

"It was nothing. I just sliced some potatoes very thin and fried them in oil. Maybe I'll call them 'potato shavings'."

Ronman cut into the conversation. "Not the best name: how about 'chips'? And I need two cards."

Ruthless dealt out the cards. "No offense, Ronman, but you aren't the cook here. I mean, you want me to take strips of dough, dust them with salt and bake them? Get real!"

"Hey, they don't have to be strips, you could fold or loop them, they'd be cute!"

The pink head shook. "You have the strangest notions, Ronman. I have a King and His Court."

"Ah, man!" Ronman took Tara's favor from around his neck and handed it to Ruthless. "Now I'm down to my loin cloth!"

The Queen of Thieves stood up to undo her skirt. "I just can't believe you got another flush!" She flung the leather at Ruthless. "Don't you go sniffing at that, neither!"

The NSTMR made a show putting the garment aside. "I don't have to. Remember, my sense of smell is fifty times keener than yours. For instance, your skirt tells me that you spent some quality time with that young guard in the South Tower sometime after four bells. Whereas you halter top tells me the groomsman at the Royal Stables never got past the touchy-feelies two days ago."

"Boy needs to invest in some hand lotion. It felt like he had rasps on my boo-bahs. Guard Boy felt sooo much better." She turned to Ronman. "And how are you feeling, Ronman."

"Better." The boy nodded. "I'm not limping anymore."

Ruthless smiled. "And I think Kimila's feeling better as well. Today's the first time this week she's passed by me without muttering something about needing material for a new pair of pink moccasins."

"Well, another week or so and you'll be able to challenge my BFF again to a little HTH. And after you win maybe some…" Moniquity stopped to stare at Ronman.

He had a strange, almost ecstatic, look on his face. There was no response. She waved her hand in front of his face. "Yo, Ronman, where are you?"

The boy could hardly whisper. "I don't know. But it's warm and very, very friendly."

Three heads jerked around as the door slammed behind them. Kimila Possible stood in her nightgown, looking dangerous without arms or armor. She stalked over to Ronman and a backslap set the boy flying. The Actuarian crashed head down into the wall, sliding down onto Ruthless' pile of winnings. Neither Ruthless nor Moniquity had time to react before Kim turned on her heel and exited, slamming the door behind her.

Moniquity pulled her clothes out of the pile and put them back on. "I think this game's been raided."


	17. Big Steps

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: Sentienl103, Katsumara, CajunBear73, bigherb81, MrDrP, BlueEyedBrigadier, Michael Howard, and everyone else, whether they wanted new cards or were willing to play with the hand they had.

Chapter 16: Big Steps

"Ronnnnnn."

Shegoix did not say the Actuarian's name so much as she purred it. Sitting down again, she brought her hands out of the waters. They again held the simulacra of Solome, the goddess' face had a knowing, satisfied smile. After giving profuse thanks Shegoix returned Her to Her hiding place. The demigoddess stood up, somewhat unsteadily, and stepped out of the tub.

"Dry."

The air spirits twirled around her as she tottered over to her bed. When she reached it she allowed herself to fall onto the silk sheets. Childish giggles came from her as she rolled to the center of the bed where she lay sprawled, gloriously nude. Her reflection on the mirrored ceiling was most flattering.

_Hey, Gorgeous, come here often?_ "Not as often as I'd like." When she finally stopped laughing she started to lift the sheets. On a whim she let them fall back.

_Demigoddesses don't get cold. And they don't get up early if they don't want to. Barkane can just start counting the arrows without me. _Some would have felt bad about that but not she. She felt no more guilt over the thought of sleeping in than she did for sending her most recent lover out to face the Red Kim.

_I mean, I miss him and all that, but that jerk Megoic is right: one of the best things about being a demigod is the underdeveloped guilt gland._

"Besides, I've got connections. If I ever get tired of the dream, I'll just go to Valhalla. Dad's buds with Shrom; I'll just take ol' Ronnie out of cold storage for a little spin."

RB!

"Ronman. Ronman wake up." Ruthless waved his hand before the boy's face.

Brown eyes looked to the faces before them. "Hey, Ruthless, Moniquity. Why are you guys upside down?"

A pink paw joined a dark hand in pulling him away from the wall and letting him tip over. "You're the one standing on his head." The NSTMR noted.

"Kim still here?" The Actuarian asked as he rubbed his jaw.

"You see anybody trying to strangle me?" Moniquity asked sharply. "Boy, we've got to get you healed up and trained so you can take on Princess Tweaky before she kills somebody. There's one girl who needs a battering ram set at her tower."

"Got the siege train right here." The lopsided grin made Ruthless and Moniquity smile in spite of themselves. She spoke again.

"Tell you what, Baby Boy. You train with her, learn her moves. I'm gonna go spy on Drakken. Something tells me I should be OOT for a while."

Ronman's lips twisted. "Uh, Moniquity, that's o-u-t."

"Out Of Town! I'll be out of town!" She shook her head. "I'm gonna see Wadelin. He's been working with King James to come up with a counter charm for Drakken's memory spell." As soon as she buckled her scimitar in place she was gone.

Ronman drew on his own clothes; surprisingly he was not as stiff as he had been that morning. "Maybe I should go talk to Kim."

The muscular rodent put a restraining paw on the barbarian. "That would not be such a good idea. It's not proper to enter the bed chamber of a Princess after sunset. In this case it could be extraordinarily dangerous."

RB!

Kimila Possible, aka Kim Krimson, the Crimson Kim, the Red Kim, etc. etc. stormed up the stone steps leading to her loft room in the East Tower. Fists were clinched, green eyes blazed as she marched over to the sword stand. Steel rang out as she drew the blade.

"Vivian, come out!"

**No. **

"Come out right now!" When she received no answer Kim trembled with fury. The girl brought the blade up to her snarling face.

"If you don't come out now so help me, Elisthar, I'll take you to the smelting pot tonight! The stables could always use a new shovel."

The Soul Sword flashed and Vivian stood before her. A frosty hand slapped Kim and sent her spinning to the floor.

"Insolent cur!" the Vivisectrix spat. "How dare you evoke the Goddess to threaten me?"

Vivian bent down over Kim, only to receive a mighty kick to the midsection. The ghost sailed over the bed; her face slack with shock. Kim jumped up, gathering the skirts of her night gown. She tied them up at the waist, in order to free her legs for movement. The Warrior Princess showed no fear as the vengeful ghost stood up.

"I could have killed him!" Kim half shouted, half-sobbed.

"A little more 'Boulderish' in your backhand and you would have. I can teach you…after you've learned some manners!" Spectral light poured from Vivian as she charged through Kim's bed. In her hand glowed a long, leaf-bladed sword. Kim had seen one carved into an ancient bas relief. Nana had told her the image came from the time when Middletonia had been a sleepy outpost of the mighty Boulderarian Empire.

Kim's sword went up to meet the flickering blade. _A little of her must still be in it. It's still glowing some. _Her shoulder went cold as the swords crossed.

"Why so angry?" Ghostly lips drew back in a cruel smile. "Did I lie? Were they not all but naked? Was she not pressing her bosom into his moon-struck face? Good thing it wasn't cold…she would have put his eyes out."

They pushed apart. Kim neatly parried Vivian's next thrust. "It was just a card game! One that I played once or twice before! Ruthless was there!"

"But you never played co-ed, nor for those stakes, I bet. And maybe those beady black eyes like to watch!"

Boulderarian drove Middletonian across the room. Vivian was heedless of the furnishing as she passed through them. Translucent sword and body left frost tendrils on whatever they touched.

Rage faded as Kim slipped into full Quest Mode. She analyzed Vivian's attack. It was pure Old School. Kim had learned this, the foundation of all other fencing schools, when very young. In a room like this she could not use it, so she utilized Boudoir Battle. Short parries and direct attacks became her tools.

A back spring carried her out of the arc of a vicious sweep. Vaulting over a divan, she landed between a wardrobe and large chest of drawers. Before she could get out Vivian charged.

Triumph shone on her ghostly face. The wardrobe would not stop her sword, and Kim would have to turn her entire body to block the blow. Once she did that, the girl's side would be exposed to the dagger now in Vivian's left hand. As expected Kim turned to catch the first blade. But before it could reach her she pivoted her right leg and lunged forward.

The tip of Kim's sword drove up just under Vivian's chin. The feeling reminded Kim of the time she had taken a stick to an exceptionally strong spider web. Now it was her turn to smile as she pushed her blade upward. Vivian's arms went down to her side, weapons shattering as they hit the floor. Colorless eyes turned all white.

"Hiyahhh!" Kim Krimson pulled her sword to her, ripping through her foe's face. The ghost dissolved in a blast of frigid air. Kim's Soul Sword gleamed more brilliantly than ever before.

_**EXCELLENT! EXCELLENT!**_

_What? _Kim looked down at the runes. They had not changed from the words spelled out before the fight. _Are you in my head now, Vivian?_

_**No. But we now have a mental link! I can talk to you now without manifesting or rearranging runes on a blade.**_

_Okay, weirdness reaching new levels here. _

_**Weirdness? You should rejoice! You are a giant step closer to securing your revenge!**_

_And how does holding a mental conversation with a metal mental case achieve that?_

_**Have you ever beaten me before? Have you as much as touched me? **_

_We've never sparred before. You always told me I wasn't ready._

_**And you weren't. But now, now you've mastered another power of the Soul Sword!**_

_**You've slain men, beasts and golems before, now no undead can hold terror over you! Any fool can hack apart a zombie or shatter a skeleton…you've beaten a ghost, a Tear of Elisthar! **_

_So, this was all a test? _Some of Kim's anger returned. _Nothing but a trick?_

_**No. I meant every word I said, and their deeds were their own. She will betray you, and how much longer will the boy who's known so much of the pleasures of women keep his weapon put away? It was your anger that began this drama, your skill that ended it. **_

_Come off it, Viv, you threw that fight. I saw the glow in that sword. You were holding back. _

_**That was not me that was you. You put a part of yourself into the blade. How else could you have defeated a ghost? **_

The truth in Vivian's words struck Kim like a deathly chill. Her hands trembled as she placed the Soul Sword back on its stand. The spectral voice sounded again in her mind.

_**The first step is always the hardest, Kimila. Tonight you've taken your first step to becoming a Sword's Soul!**_

Vivian the Vivisectrix dimmed as if asleep.

Kim Krimson shivered as she climbed into bed. No amount of blankets or furs could warm her. Her only comfort came from the stuffed bear she clung to and a name that she whispered against the darkness.

"Ron."

RB!

She was out on the practice ground before dawn. She wanted to work the nervousness out before she saw either Ronman or Moniquity. For her part, Vivian kept quiet. The Warrior Princess could feel the tension ebbing away as she went through her exercise. Another forward thrust, now came a spinning strike to the rear…

Clang!

Her Soul Sword struck another blade. Its owner grinned in the near darkness. "Cool move! This from the 'Badical Babe' or the 'Smokin' Hot Babe' School?"

"Neither. It's from the 'Badger' School. It's for fighting in minimal space and light." She put away her sword. "Look, about last night. I'm sorry."

"Relax, KK, it's already forgotten." The boy rubbed the back of his neck. "And when I say it's forgotten I mean it. I don't remember anything after you came through the door."

Green eyes grew soft with concern. "This is the second time I've given you a concussion."

"It'll take more than a couple of concussions to take me out." He took a step back. "But could we hold off on any more for a while? I woke up this morning thinking Ruthless was Hana. He didn't appreciate me trying to take him to go potty."

Her laughter made the coming dawn even brighter. "Don't worry. Until you're better I'll just train my men."

"Speaking of that, KK. I've been asked by some of the guys to talk to you."

The Princess stood arms akimbo. "The slackers! Not even willing to talk to me face to face! These aren't children, Ronman, they're veteran soldiers."

"Veteran soldiers who cry when they see you coming." His eyes pleaded their case.

Retorts died on her lips as she looked into his face. "I guess I can be…"

"Over zealous? Hard charging? Fanatic?"

"I was thinking focused." She put a finger to his lips, completely unprepared for them to come together to kiss the digit. Knees almost gave out from under her.

"Please, Ronman, you've got to win next time."

"That's the final step of my plan. Now I just need the opening and middle steps."

"Sorry I can't help you there." Kim's continued laughter caused the approaching soldiers to relax a bit. "Stay for practice, Ronman? Help me to not get too…"

"Focused?" He smiled.

Her return smile was stunning. "You're already learning."

RB!

**Many things did my lord learn in the following days. Weapons of war, styles of fighting. And the pitching of woo. All of these did he need in order to achieve his goal.**

Stars twinkled in their thousands across the clear night sky. A coach waited at the bottom of the hill overlooking the river entering Hidden Valley. Ruthless reclined in the driver's seat, admiring the view.

He was not the only one appreciating a pretty sight. Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe considered himself the luckiest of men. He sat on a broad blanket heaped with the choicest delicacies, but they did not hold his attention. Magnificent silverware also went unnoticed. He only had eyes for the girl who sat across from him.

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, glowed in the moonlight. The purple gown left her perfect shoulders bare. Jewels sparkled in her hair, which she had pulled up for the occasion. They could not match the shining of her eyes any more than the pearls around her neck could compete with the lustrous smile. This night every ounce of beauty and charm were directed at the boy just within reach.

"Thanks for tonight. It's wonderful!" Kim reached out to touch Ronman's hands. Her heart skipped a beat when his fingers wrapped around hers. "I didn't realize how much I needed to get away from all the training and the planning."

"Shaman Katz always says it's better to wear out than to rust out; but not to do either one prematurely. And I'm glad you could leave the Ronman slice-and-dice-omatic back at the castle."

She looked evasive for a moment. "Viv and I have reached a new level of understanding. What surprises me is that Dad would let us go out without a Royal Chaperone."

"Oh, they were cool when I explained everything." He turned around to pick up a small box. Turning back to face her, he carefully removed its contents, dropping them before her with a metallic clink.

The new gauntlet was crimson leather reinforced with finely etched steel plates. With all the nerve he could muster, Ronman popped the question.

"Kimila Possible, would you do me the honor of dueling at sundown tomorrow?"

Her face outshone the full moon above. "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! Tomorrow, but there's so much to do! We'd have to get…"

"All that's taken care of, KK." Ronman sat up proudly. "Ruthless and I spoke with your Mom to see exactly what was needed to do this right."

Kim looked winsome. "I wish Mon was here."

"We've sent riders out looking for her. I was going to set the duel for when she got back, but your mom said Captain Hobble could be your Second. She didn't think you'd want to wait."

She fixed Ronman in her gaze. "She's right. I've waited long enough."

Hands reached out to one another but before they could touch trumpets blared at the bridge below. They stood up in time to see riders dismount just long enough to take fresh horses. One rider's call as she spurred her mount toward the castle caused the two to look at each other.

"Moniquity!"

"Jinx!" the Princess smiled. "You owe me a cup of wine!"

"Oh, man! Why didn't Ruthless explain that part of 'jinx' to me?" He started to turn to go down the hill when Kim grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands.

Eyes closed as lips touched. Ronman brought his hands up to hold her shoulders. Her forearms dug into his chest, pulling him close while maintaining space between their eager young bodies. Eventually the young barbarian began to feel the need for air.

_What're the odds of passing out while kissing?_

Just before blackness could claim him Kim pulled back. She cast a mischievous glance over her left shoulder. "See? Told you we could do it. No tongue, no bodily contact; perfectly appropriate behavior for the sitch."

Ronman could almost hear the grumbled acknowledgment. Kim grabbed his right hand and started down the hill. "Come with me, Ronman."

"To the ends of the Earth." He whispered.

RB!

Ruthless called to the horses before the two could take their seats. This time there was a lot of bodily contact. Disentanglement was heavenly. Kim straightened her dress and hair as they rode back. Ronman fingered his sword hilt. They flew down the road and soon entered the castle. Captain Hobble waited with her sword.

"Council of War?" She asked as she buckled her crimson sword belt around her waist.

He nodded. "This way, Your Highness."

The make-shift throne room teemed with soldiers and the handful of nobility who still remembered where their true loyalties lay. King James, Queen Ann and the Twevils sat in their raised chairs. An empty chair to the right of the King waited for Kim.

Captain Hobble saluted the Royal Ps and took a position behind the King. Ronman noticed another soldier standing behind the Queen. To her left sat the Twevils. No soldier stood behind them; only a swirling, pulsating cloud. Everyone gave it a wide berth. Kim looked to Ronman.

"Stand behind me?"

"I've got your back, KK."

After flashing him a stunning smile Kim strode proudly to her seat. Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara, followed behind, hand on sword. The crowd murmured, mostly in approval, of the sight.

King James called out. "Let the Scout come forward."

Moniquity made her way to the center of the room. She smile broadened when she saw Ronman standing behind Kim. It widened after Kim lifted the gauntlet for her to see. Now Ronman got a look. "You da man." She mouthed.

His Majesty shook his head and said wryly. "Now that everyone's caught up; can we have your report?"

"Sure thing, Your Majesty. After some fast scootin' I made it to Westingshire where I put down for a little SLnL. Well, my feet weren't chill before some big mouths from Middletonia rode up with the word. The Green and Black Attack has taken her show on the road and the cattle call was on for extras."

Royal brows furrowed. James leaned forward. "Come again, in Middletonian."

Kim helped her father. "Dad, Mon was looking over the sitch in Westingshire when Drakken sent some messengers. Shegoix has the Army on the march and the levy's been called out."

"Using my army!" the King frowned. "Any idea where they were headed?"

"Uppertonia." Moiquity answered loudly. "Since the walls ain't tall at all."

"And the army left?"

"It should have left Middletonia two days ago."

Brown eyes darkened as the King pondered the news. "Even with Uppertonia's walls weakened and support from rebellious nobles Shegoix will need the entire army to conquer Uppertonia. Calling up the levies will give them some replacements should the siege drag on…"

Only one person would dare interrupt His Majesty at a time like this. Queen Ann leaned over and touched his arm. "He may have bigger plans than that. Once Uppertonia falls he could turn the army south and with the levies…"

"Invade Lowertonia!" James was alarmed. "If Uppertonia falls quickly enough, he'll have an empire by the end of the summer. But it would take time to consolidate his gains; time that neither Rhodigan nor Go City would dare allow him to have! With their combined strength, Middletonia would be doomed!"

The auburn-haired Princess stared straight ahead. In her mind's eye she saw the dream that had come to her again and again over the past year. Flimsy denials crumbled as she admitted to herself it was Middletonia she saw in utter ruin. A grim voice spoke to her.

_**Now you know. Your dream is the future as seen by Elisthar. It is what will happen to your city should you fail. **_

"Father, we must move at once!" the urgency in her voice caught everyone off guard. "We only have a small army, true, but no levy could stand up to it. Drakken can't have more than a few hundred mercenaries with him in Middletonia. If we wait, we may never get another chance."

Her father looked thoughtful, too thoughtful for Ronman's tastes. "Getting us out in the open may be his plan. If we were quickly overwhelmed that would make things that much easier for him."

Officers and nobles nodded in agreement. The Warrior Princess could feel the chance to act slipping away. She looked desperately at her father, but before she could say a word the court's other red head spoke.

"We're all concerned over the uncertainties of the coming days. Fortunately this court has on hand not one, but two Actuarians at its disposal." Queen Ann observed.

A certain Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat stepped forward. "Your Majesties, nobles and warriors of the court, I can say with absolute certainty that something completely unexpected will happen if we march. But this is war, and uncertainty is the order of the day. You can either be surprised in the field, sword in hand, or wait for the unexpected to overtake you here, in the midst of your loved ones."

Ann could sense the fair words and cogent argument had turned things back to acting. She now turned to the other barbaric calculator of the odds. "And what does the Princess' Bodyguard have to say?"

Ronman's experience with crowds looking at him usually involved a lack of breeches on his part. And he did not have Ruthless' drama background. Fortunately something came to mind.

"Shrom, the odds look good!"

The Actuarian battle cry had turned the tide. Warriors and nobles drew their swords.

"Hail, King James! Hail, Queen Ann!"

"Down with the Usurper Drakken!"

"On to Middletonia!"

Part of being a king is knowing when to accede to public demand. James rose from his seat and turned to Captain Hobble. The soldier held out the royal blade. Cries rang out as the Sword of Middletonia came out, ready for battle.

"We march to reclaim our throne at dawn!"

Hundreds roared their approval. Kim turned to Ronman. "I'm afraid we'll have to postpone our duel."

"It's all right, KK. We'll cross plenty of swords in the next few days."

RB!

"General, a messenger from King Drakken."

Green eyes rolled as Shegoix looked up from the table. "What is it this time? Has he changed his mind again? Drakkania sounds a lot better than Drakkenland."

Captain Barkane left, making way for a cloaked figure. The hood fell back to reveal a sharp, beautiful, bored looking face framed by straight blond hair. Blue (?) green (?) eyes regarded the demigoddess with little interest.

"You're to return to Middletonia tonight."

"Tonight? Tonight?" Shegoix snarled. "What's up? The Uppertonians have retreated into the city! We can start the siege tomorrow."

"And we will." The newcomer answered. "His Majesty needs you for another task."

"Who's going to head up the siege: Captain Barkane? Or does he have some other idiot in mind?"

"No idiot. You'll be in charge." The woman's face and hair transformed and Shegoix found herself looking at her own mirror image. When the cloak fell away she saw that even the armor was duplicated. "I can do mundane for a few days."

Barkane flinched when the green light flashed out of the tent. Moments later Shegoix emerged, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. Her lip curled in an amused sneer.

"Be sure to wake me at dawn, though you might have to use trumpets. Oh, and I'll probably have a really bad headache."


	18. Roads of KIngs

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: screaming phoenix, CajunBear73, King in Yellow, MrDrP, Katsumara, Sentinel103, bigherb81, aedan cameron, BlueEyedBrigadier, Michael Howard, Isamu, JCS1966, and all you other hopeless romantics out there.

Chapter 17: The Roads of Kings

The dawn glowed red on the arms and armor of the army leaving Hidden Valley for Middletonia. Two hundred cavalry, three thousand infantry and five hundred archers marched down the Road of Kings. As they crossed the final bridge they saluted their watching monarch. James returned the salute of each unit as they passed. After the last man crossed the river the King rode back to the wagon train waiting on the side of the road.

An opulent carriage waited first in line. Queen Ann stood before it, her brilliant purple cape reaching to the ground. Her right hand kept it closed. The King dismounted and walked up to her. He could not hide the wistful expression as he put his hands on her shoulders.

"Time for us to go. I guess even good exiles must come to an end."

His Queen gave him an indulgent smile. "Nothing lasts forever; it's time to go home. Besides, this gives me a chance to wear my armor." Her hand right relaxed and the cape opened to reveal her own mail bikini. It was more elaborate than that of her daughter. Gold and silver plated links shone warmly. Her curves pressed insistently against the scant protection. Purple gauntlets and calf-length sandals completed the ensemble.

"Ohhh, hail to the Queen!" James crushed his wife against him as they kissed passionately.

The girl standing to the left blushed furiously. Her brothers turned a little green. Behind them the BBG cheered. Moniquity led the chant.

"Uh-huh, go King, go Queen, go King, go Queen!"

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, shot the RBF a cross look. "Could you guys be any less decorous?"

"Hey, they're the ones snogging in front of thousands." The Queen of Thieves grinned. "I think they're cute."

Ronman's gaze alternated between the hot passion to his right and the warm beauty in front of him. He put an anxious finger on Kim's shoulder.

"Would a little kiss before riding off to war be proper?"

Soft green eyes danced. "If you behave."

She turned and pressed her forearms against his chest. Eyes closed and lips met. His hands rested on her shoulders. When she moaned, his hands trembled and the bra strap slid off her left shoulder.

Ronman's eyes bulged as Vivian's pommel smashed into his gut. The barbarian boy fell to his knees gasping for air. Kim glared at the sword as she returned the strap to her shoulder. "That was an accident, Viv!"

_**Hey, I just saw him about to flash you to the Kingdom. **_

"Are you all right, Ronman?" Kim asked as she helped him back onto his feet.

"S'kay." He coughed.

The Royal Ps stood behind their daughter. Ann spoke. "Kimmie, maybe we could arrange for a duel on the march?"

"No, Mom." Kim's eyes were determined. "No distractions until the Usurper is overthrown." She took Sloth's reins and swung onto the saddle. The unicorn gave Ronman a dismissive snort, and shied away from the barbarian's glare.

The BBG went to their mounts. Ruthless sighed to Moniquity. "I guess it will be a while before we play Seconds again."

"Yeah, I was hoping for some major romance on this march; and nothing says romance better than a formal duel followed by a little tush-push." She looked over at a decidedly uncomfortable Wadelin.

"Don't worry, Baby Boy, some day pretty soon some little girl will help you understand."

They mounted. The King helped his Queen into the carriage. She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll keep looking through the scrolls and maps, dear."

"Good. We'll share anything you find at tonight's War Council." His expression changed when he walked over to the Twevils' carriage. Its ash wood body was covered with glyphs of silver and cold forged iron. The clay golem coachmen were painted and amazingly lifelike. He whispered as small warding charm.

"Boys, remember what I told you. NO summoning on the march; you can't make a perfect seal on a coach's floor."

"But, Dad, we've found a reference to this great fire demon." Jim started.

Tim continued. "He could blast the city gates right off their hinges. It would be awesome! We need to start the preliminary spells now.

"After we reach Middletonia and only if it's necessary." The regal tone would brook no argument. "Do we make ourselves clear?"

"Yes, Dad." They said with resignation.

"Good. Now read up on that demon and we'll talk about binding spells later. Time to go now."

In a short time all wagons and escorts were ready. The King raised his hand.

"On to Middletonia!"

RB!

Many leagues to the northwest a vortex of fire settled upon a road and finally disappeared leaving two figures. The blue skinned man's face was stark with fear.

"I always hated that spell, Mother! There are others that could have gotten here even faster."

The little woman to his left shrugged. "I need the practice. Or do you want your Mother to lose her edge."

He brought his hands up in a placating gesture. "Of course not. That spell just unsettles me, that's all. And why are we here, anyway?"

"To put another piece into the imperial mosaic." They topped a hill after a short walk. A massive encampment sprawled before them. Fur tents in their hundreds filled the valley and spilled deep into the woods surrounding the open ground. At the center was a great yurt sporting three distinct banners.

A group of heavily armed men in furs and leather armor marched up to them. Their leader issued a challenge. "Give the word of the day or die."

Drakken licked his lips nervously as he brought his hands up to chest level. Mama King just stepped forward, fires rising from her fingertips and eyes. "Stand by or you fry."

Long hair shook under the horned helmets as the men looked at each other. Their leader swallowed. "Close enough."

"Good. Now go tell your King that family's coming." The old fire witch started down the hill. Her royal son caught up quickly.

"Mother, why did you bring him into this?"

"We need the sword fodder. Don't count on levies to fight. Besides, your Cousin Eddie knows how to win."

RB!

The yurt stood in the middle of the camp. In the middle of the yurt sat a throne. On the throne was a mountain of a man. Muscles rested on muscles as the king reveled in the ministrations of his wives. That is, until one eye screwed shut as his head jerked to one side.

"Sweetie, treat the lion's mane with more respect, seriously."

The black haired woman shook the comb after dipping it in scented water. "If ya'd let me trim the back a little it'd be easier to care for."

"How many times do I have to tell you; up front it's business, in the back it's party, party, party! It's the symbol of my power. Let's take a look…"

A strawberry blond held a mirror up, resting it upon her ample breasts. He took it from her, taking care to touch her as he did so. What he saw made him smile. "You may be rough, but you do it right, seriously." The second woman caught the mirror before the King could drop it.

A woman in armor stepped inside. She saw the look on the King's face and held her tongue. He threw his head back and let go of his.

"Oh, yeahhhh! That's how you play, seriously!" He looked down approvingly.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." The brown haired girl looked up. She delivered one more kiss before securing the steel plated royal cod piece.

When he could focus again the man motioned to the guard. "Lay it on me, seriously."

"Your Majesty, we have guests, royal guests."

The three women with the King put on their crowns. A gold band festooned with a pair of Saber Tooth Tiger fangs rested on the black hair of the senior wife. The second wife placed a tiara of highly polished Cave Bear claws upon her strawberry blond locks. The last one wore a silver chased helmet adorned with golden wings. She handed her husband a helmet incorporating elements of all three crowns. Savage did not even begin to describe the look.

Another armored woman with short blond hair and a particularly fierce expression entered. She smirked and called out. "Your Majesty, King Drakken of Middletonia and his Mom."

The giant's dark eyes brightened as Drakken and Mama King entered the yurt. "Auntie! Cuz! Great to see ya, seriously!"

"Little Eddie." Mama King held her arms out and walked forward.

The guard turned on her heel to leave. Drakken's eyes remained fixed on her utterly unarmored (and uncovered) glutes. His hand shot out to slap the right cheek. Before the smack had died away she had him on the ground with her dagger at his throat.

"You could give me two wolf whistles at the same time if you had another mouth. Wouldn't that be FREAKY?"

King Eddie waved his hand. "Yo, Adrena, no killin' the Cuz. Stand up and let me see the damage, seriously."

Adrena dropped Drakken's head to the floor with a thunk. Standing with her back to her King, she jutted the offended buttock toward him. He was most appreciative.

"Whoa, Cuz, you've got some small hands. Adrena, take the rest of the day off. Get one or two or ten of your guys to apply some lotion. Want ya ready for the big dance, seriously."

The blond warrior woman smirked, giving her hips some extra wiggle as she left.

Massive hands seized Drakken and lifted him to his feet. One smacked him on the chest with stinging force. The towering barbarian king smiled at the black haired civilized monarch. "Cuz, before ya spank a Tribal Girl ya need to know she's into ya. I mean, she's just as likely to do ya in as do ya, seriously."

"Barbaric!" King Drakken sputtered. "Refusing the gracious advance of a King."

Mama King broke into the conversation. "Boys, take it easy. We've got to lay our plans, then you two can go back to laying girls."

"Mother!" Drakken blushed.

"What?" She smiled. "You still pretend I don't know? How do you think you got here?"

Cousin Eddie nodded. "Cha, Cuz, your folks were only human. Some time alone for a little tenderness; or maybe they liked it rough…"

"ENOUGH!" Drakken shouted. "Can we just make whatever plans we need so we can return to Middletonia and drink ourselves into forgetfulness?"

Mama King put a hand to the side of her mouth and whispered to Eddie. "Such a sensitive boy. He gets it from his father."

"It's not from us, seriously." Eddie agreed. "Now, we're here, what's the plan, Auntie? Seriously."

Her dark eyes glittered. "We're all ready. Just take the road, Eddie, and in another day's march you'll be overlooking the Road of Kings. Just hide in the woods on the hills and wait. By the next afternoon the army of James will pass by. He has about four thousand men. Shouldn't take you past sundown to finish 'em off."

"But what about her?" the blue skinned usurper asked.

His mother shrugged elaborately. "Don't worry she'll get out; her kind always do. But just in case, Eddie, if your guys catch a girl; red hair, green eyes, peaches and cream complexion, a little underfed up top but really nice bottom action. Won't be wearing much so she'll be easy to spot. Don't hurt her, she belongs to my Drewbie."

"As long as I get what's coming to me, fair enough. Who is she? Seriously."

"Our future Queen!" King Drewbie could not resist the flourish. "Just what did Mother promise you anyway, cousin?"

The great blond mustache lifted with the fierce smile. "Why your old partner Green, of course. Not like you're putting her to the proper use anymore. Girl like that needs appreciation, and a lot of it, seriously."

Something between anger and concern caused Drakken to take a step back. "No! Absolutely not! You do not get Go City!"

"Don't want Go City, I want Green. It's time for wife number four and I want something different. Girls need a bigger break in the rotation. Takes a lot to please a King, and Green's got what it takes, seriously."

"You can talk about love all you want, but I'm not buying, cousin. You're not getting Go City and that's final!"

Tensions rose. Before they could boil over into violence the old fire witch produced a small vial. "Just do your job, Eddie, and I'll slip this into Shegoix's drink. She'll be in control of herself, except for her loins, that is. They'll have to hots for you. Don't worry, Drewbie, she won't give Eddie money or power or anything like that, she'll just give him herself, night after night after night."

"Works for me, seriously." Eddie took Drakken's small hand into his great mitt and shook it. He almost lifted his cousin off the ground.

_So I'm going to do it? Give Shegoix to Eddie? After all we've been through, all those nights? All the…sarcasm, the carping, the turning me down. From what Mother says, she'll still be able to lead the armies and rule her city. I won't be making her Eddie's slave, only his sex toy. They say the Road to Empire is paved with the bodies of others. Guess it's time to put down some mileage. Besides, this time __she'll __be the one who's needy._

Each cousin smiled for his own reason as they shook hands.

RB!

Soldiers paced along the camp perimeter as the army of King James slept. Lamps still burned in a few tents. One of those tents was red. Two figures sat in its center.

Kimila reached for the pouch offered her by Ronman. She drew forth a length of baked dough, eying the brown, salt-encrusted crust warily. "And you made these at the Royal Bakery before we left?"

"They had some leftover dough. Didn't want it to go to waste. Try it, KK, you'll like it!"

_Here goes. _She bit into it. "Still soft on the inside and so salty! Salty is sooo good right now. Who'd believe you could sweat so much in this armor?"

"It makes me sweat…and my heart race." Ronman breathed.

"For a barbarian you are so smooth." Her expression grew playful. "Who taught you the 'Charm' School?"

"Hey, I'm just layin' down the truth. No lies in what I'm sayin'."

Their laughter was cut short when Ruthless and Moniquity entered the tent. There was no mistaking the tension on their faces or in their body language.

"We have visitors outside the perimeter." The NSTMR stated flatly.

"Why did you come to us instead of Captain Hobble?" Kim asked with a slight tweak to her voice.

"Hobble's a good man but he's a soldier. We need to catch some these guys alive." The RBF held out a small pot. "Soot. All three of you are too light to work in the dark."

After everyone put on their night camouflage they left the tent. They slipped past Middletonia's soldiers with disturbing ease. At ten paces apart the men missed the BBG and the practitioner of the Stealthy Shadow School making their way into the night.

Everyone stopped when Ruthless raised a clinched paw. Just ahead hushed voices conversed. All communication was now by hand signals.

(Two?) Ronman asked.

(Maybe three.) Ruthless answered.

(We take them.) Kim gestured. (Alive. On three, one…two…three!)

They burst through the bushes and into a clearing. Neither barbarian boy nor rodent could resist saying their battle cry (quietly, of course).

"Shrom, the odds look…"

One hundred spears leveled at them in an arc of pointed nastiness. Two men stood in the shadows behind them. The closest one spoke.

"Good. The odds look good." He moved out of the darkness and smiled. "Ronman! Ruthless!"

"Felix!"

The three engaged in a flurry of back slapping while the others relaxed.

"What are you guys doing here?" Saber teeth accented Ruthless' grin.

Felix provided the explanation. "Looking for the army of James of Middletonia. It's vital that we talk to him."

"About?" The Warrior Princess could no longer stay out of the conversation. "He's my father and I command the cavalry."

"About the trap you're all blundering into." Felix's companion replied. The slight man had an air of command. Ronman's friend introduced him.

"This is Kevin, son of Phillip and Donna of the Guberman Clan of the Seeing Clawer Tribe." Felix started shaking hands, starting with Moniquity. He reached Ronman last.

Ronman took his hand. "So you're…"

"Tara's husband; and the father of her child." The answer held a hint of challenge.

Ronman rose to that tone. "I don't recall you being there." Both men took a step forward.

"So not the time." Kim stepped between the two bull-headed barbarians.

Moniquity agreed. "Yeah, there's no time to drop the breeches for a wagging contest. Though I'd be happy to judge one later."

The Princess now glared at the Queen of Thieves. "He's married, Mon, and you know Ronman's spoken for."

"All I'm saying, girl, is that it's civilized to share."

Someone missed the joke. "Middletonian civilization goes all the way back to Old Boulder! We were building cities before your people could sew a hide tent!"

This time masculine hands restrained feminine sword arms. Kim's anger faded at Ronman's touch. "Mon, I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me."

_I think I can guess. _The dark beauty shot a look at the sword at Kim's hip. "It's okay, girl friend. We're all under a lot of pressure. Maybe we'll find a release soon."

"If you mean a battle, then yes, you will." Kevin motioned in the direction of the Middletonian camp. "May we?"

"Of course, follow me." Everyone fell in line behind Kim.

Ronman looked over at Kevin. "Dude, I'm sorry about being short. It's just it's my kid too. How's Tara?"

"Wonderful. She's really starting to show. I had to expand the cooking pit before I left. She's developed a hankering for smoked moose."

"Ummmmm. Smoked moose." Ruthless sighed.

Behind the NSTMR were Felix and Moniquity.

"So, how long have you known Ronman, Cutie Pie?"

"All our lives. We were going to be plunder buddies but he had to leave early." His eyes looked up and down the young woman beside him. "Looks like he's come across some real treasures."

They could hear the commotion ahead of them as they reached the sentry line. "Advance and be recognized!"

The soldiers gasped as the figure came forward. "Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia."

"Your Highness! H-How many are with you?"

"A few." She smiled cryptically. They gawked as 105 men, women and beasts followed her through the lines.

Those soldiers still awake stared at the long line making its way to the Royal Area. When they reached a supply tent Moniquity took Felix by the hand. Her face lit up when he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her inside. His fellow Actuarians shook their heads at their comrade's good fortune.

Fires roared at the War Council as the attendees gathered. Most were bleary eyed. The Royal Ps were a tad disheveled. James' hair was particularly mussed up. He rose to greet the newcomers.

"Middletonia welcomes Actuaria. And what is your name, young man?"

"Thank you, Sire." Actuaria's youngest Battle Master bowed. "I am Kevin, son of Phillip and Donna of the Guberman Clan of the Seeing Clawer Tribe. My companion uh, where's Felix?"

"With Moniquity, I think." Quipped a certain red headed girl. "Reaching an accord."

RB!

Surplus blankets fell over in the darkness of the supply tent. The young man now lying on them sighed deeply.

"Was that good for you, too?"

Moniquity stretched her lovely body with feline grace. "My left toes are still curling."

Her lover reached over and pulled her on top of himself. "We better work on those slackers on the right."

RB!

"Hardly a time to slip off." King James noted.

"We can't think of a better time. When faced with death, celebrate life." Queen Ann put her hand on top of James'. While he blushed she looked at Kevin. "Do you need him to continue?"

The Seeing Clawer shook his head. "No. He came so that Ronman and Ruthless would see a friendly face. They knew no one in my war band."

The Queen nodded. "Then pray continue."

By now Ronman stood behind Kim as she sat to her father's right. Dozens of people waited for the Actuarian to speak.

"People of Middletonia, we admire your courage in seeking to restore justice to your land. Sadly, victory requires much more than courage or a righteous cause. Continue on your present path and it's unlikely that any of you will see the next sunset."

People whispered nervously all around the council fire. They fell silent as James raised his hand. "What leads you to this conclusion?"

"Six hours down the road you follow are a series of wooded hills. Drakken's cousin Ed waits there in ambush with three barbarian hordes."

"Hordes?" the War Council was incredulous.

"Actually, they're tribes: Hordeboken, Hackenslash and Freehorde. Each one has kept an up-to-date horde license. Saves time and money if they need to upgrade." Kevin went on. "But whether you call them hordes or tribes they outnumber you six to one and they hold a strong position. Even if you march up in battle array you'll lose."

Captain Hobble spoke. "My King, we could take the right fork in the morning. The south road would skirt the forest entirely."

The King dismissed the idea. "It would add weeks to our march and leave Hidden Valley defenseless. Once Ed figured out our move, he could send a force to sack the valley and still come after us with overwhelming numbers. No, here is where we meet and defeat these wretched barbarians! No offense, Ronman, Kevin."

"None taken." They answered. Suddenly Ronman smiled. "Jinx! You owe me a cup of wine, Kevin."

Blue gray eyes were puzzled. "You'll have to explain that game to me later, Ronman. But, Your Majesty, I bring more than bad news. Actuaria knows that Drakken or Eddie or both will move on us if not stopped now. Plunder season has cut into our strength, but we have four thousand warriors to add to your 3,700 soldiers. "We'd still be outnumbered but…"

James finished his thought. "But we could turn the tables on our enemies. A trap-trap."

"A what?" Ronman bent over to ask Kim.

"A trap set by pretending to walk unprepared into your enemy's trap." She explained. "I read about it in one of Nana's old scrolls: 'Fight Smarter, Not Harder'."

Kevin smiled. He had heard an oral rendition of the same work. "Our forces are already in place. Once you get them chasing you, we'll pounce. Shall I return to my camp and tell them you're coming?"

"Kevin, son of Phillip and Donna, tell your people Middletonia is coming."

"Very good." Nodded the Actuarian War Leader. "We'll meet you at the site of the trap-trap."

"And now I need to confer with my officers on our altered plans for tomorrow. Kimila, would you please escort our allies back to their lines?"

Princess and barbarian led the line back the way it had come. They stopped at a certain supply tent. Kim rapped on the canvas.

"Mon, Felix, come out."

Clothing rustled inside the tent and a minute later Moniquity stepped out, grinning from ear to ear.

"Mon, you missed everything."

"Trust me, girl friend, I missed nothing." Moniquity patted Ronman's cheek. "Whichever deity put you Actuarian boys together knew what She was doing."

This brought a scowl to Kevin's face. "Shrom is a He."

The dark beauty smiled a secret smile. "Boy, to touch a woman like that takes a woman's touch."

Moments later Felix emerged. His brown eyes were glazed, his brown hair stood out at all angles. His face was still effused with a post coital glow.

"I'm starved." He whispered. "Anybody got anything to eat?"

Ronman reached into a pouch at his side, producing a curious length of baked dough. "Here, Felix. I call it a 'twistie'."


	19. The Hordes of Flatbush

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: Katsumara, MrDrP, King in Yellow, CajunBear73, FortressMaximus, Sentinel103, bigherb81, screaming phoenix, BlueEyedBrigadier, JCS1966, Michael Howard, Isamu, airwalker999 and all the other taste testers. Hope it wasn't too salty.

Chapter 18, The Hordes of Flatbush

**Did you miss me? New alliances are consummated on the march to Middletonia. Now both sides ready their traps, confident of their smartness. As you all know, that means trouble.**

Far to the west, beneath the waves of the Western Sea, lies Old Boulder. Little now remains to mark the world spanning empire, lost for thousands of years. The last hint of her greatness is the Road of Kings. Beginning at the Farthest Shore (though in the tongue of Actuaria it is called the Nearest Shore) it spans a path of three thousand miles to the Crystalline Sea of Rhodigan. Nor is that the end of it. Resuming on the opposite shore, it continues across the deserts and to the fabled lands of the Far East.

In and near the cities of Middletonia, Uppertonia and Rhodigan it is a wonder, its gleaming white material defying traffic and centuries. Even where no cities maintain it the road resists the efforts of nature to erase it and its builders' memory. Not even the most persistent plant can gain root unless the road has first been broken by earthquake or rock slide or the hand of man. But even so, much of the road is now obscured by a thick layer of dust, the accumulation of centuries. In less inhabited areas shrub and grasses grow there, but to this day much of the road serves its original purpose; facilitating the flow of trade and the movement of armies.

A great cloud of dust towered over the forested hills, kicked up by the army of King James and Queen Ann on their way to Middletonia along the Road of Kings. In the forested hill above 19,397 pairs of eyes (along with 1,056 singles, a surprising number of those women, Tribal Girls rumble as rough as the boys, seriously) watched the cloud snake along towards them.

At mid morning a party of riders came through the gap between the hills running up from the south to the meet the ridge line that followed the east-west road. The leader was a wisp of a girl with red hair. Her crimson cape, boots and gauntlets stood out, as for the armor, for a moment the army thought she was naked. Their discipline enabled the watching tribal folk to avoid giving themselves away with catcalls, whistles or arrows. Soon the scouting party turned to pound their way back down the road.

Three figures in those woods watched Kim Krimson with particular interest. The blue skinned man wrung his small hands in frustration as she rode away.

"Did we have to let her get away? We could have hidden a thousand men in the scrub by the road! Why, I can practically feel the soft, warm flesh of her…"

"Cuz, get your head on straight. Now's not the time to be thinking about the post-game party, seriously." Eddie, King of Three Hordes, shook his head. Long blond hair waved, much to the delight of the three queens standing behind him.

"You're one to talk." King Drakken sniffed. "The whole camp could hear you four caterwauling this morning."

"That was a matter of Tribal Security." The royal cousin replied with a dignified air. "You always try to get another bun in the oven before a battle, seriously.

"Besides, we didn't make nearly the noise Adrena did. Don't know how she can stand, much less walk or fight after doing all those dudes, seriously."

Adrena stood behind the royal party. Bronze armor or leather padding covered every part of her body except her head and hands. Twenty examples of male physical perfection were with her. Their muscular frames were clad only in fur loin cloths and boots. Armor consisted of round targets on the chest, a shield and a full helmet to guard each absolutely beautiful face. The last would not go on until they joined the battle. She ran a finger along a particularly fine jaw line as she smiled.

"What's my job, Majesty?"

"Oh you'll like this one. You get to bring in the Red Kim."

"Seriously?" her smile was salacious.

"Seriously." Eddie looked back to his Auntie, who handed him a length of bronze chains. "These shackles will take the fight out of her. Once you've got these on her," he took a fine gold chain and collar from Mama King, "put this on her. She'll do anything you say. This one sounds like fun, seriously."

"I'll bring her back naked, on all fours." The Guard Captain grinned evilly.

King Drakken cleared his throat. "Uh, Eddie. It's better to treat our future queen with respect. Our specialty is Memory Charms and you can't really erase the memory of that kind of humiliation. It will always be in the back of her mind, waiting for something to trigger it."

"What's to worry?" Mama King grated. "After I'm done with her there won't be a mind left. She'll do what you want, say what you want, and remember what you want.

She pointed at Adrena. "You bring her to us like that. Be sure she wags her tail before she sits down at my Drewbie's feet."

"I like the way you think, Mama King…FREAKY!" The two women shared a demented laugh.

Eddie waited for Adrena to hand the manacles to one of her men. Once she was finished he stepped up and brought his massive fists down upon her armored shoulders. "All right, babe, let's doooo it! Seriously!"

"Freaky!" She slammed her fists onto his fur clad shoulders. This went back and forth: each striking the other with increasing force, the other stepping up to return the blow.

"Seriously!"

"Freaky!"

As they engaged in their pre-battle ritual Drakken sneaked up to deliver a small swat to Adrena's now armored backside. The wild woman spun about, her upper cut sending Middletonia's Usurper King flying backwards in a clatter of gold decorated armor. Mama King and Eddie helped Drakken up as Adrena sauntered off, licking the blood from her knuckles.

"Sorry about that, Auntie. I tried to warn Cuz yesterday, seriously."

"It's all right." The old fire witch lied. _That minx Shegoix will pay for looking down on my Drewbie. In a week or so she'll be looking back over her shoulder at you. As for Adrena, she'll learn that my revenge is a slow burn._

RB!

By early afternoon the Middletonian army vanguard marched through the gap. Behind them came long lines of infantry. Dusty men slogged along, helmeted heads bowed, shields slung off of their left shoulders. Dust rose in blinding clouds from their feet.

"There's the infantry and I can see archers on the flanks." Dark eyes narrowed as Drakken stared ahead intently. "But where's the cavalry? Where's James and the Red Kim?"

"Back with the supply train." His barbarian cousin answered. "They're at the center of the line of march; that way they can respond to attacks to the van or rear. Stick with me, Cuz. We'll learn you something and get that cherry armor busted in, seriously."

"It's not cherry!" The Usurper snapped as his cheeks burned. "We've seen plenty of action. It's just…a king should always look the part."

"Sure, whatever, Cuz. Just watch and learn. There's the Royal Carriage and the wagon train. We'll let them come half-way through then…wham! We hit 'em hard and the wagons block the escape route. After that it's panic time, seriously."

Dozens of wagons now entered the valley. James' cavalry was still nowhere in sight. Judging the time had come, Eddie put a horn to his lips.

Dusty faces paled as hundreds of horns called out in the wooded hills to their left. The very next moment a thousand archers sprang up from the brush on the hillside and rained arrows down upon the soldiers. Dozens fell; some motionless, others clutched at arrows. Comrades dragged the wounded back as the formations readied themselves for battle.

Cheers rang out from the woods. The hillside darkened as barbarians swarmed out from the trees in their thousands. At the forefront was a woman whose black hair like her husband's was short on the sides and long in the back. The saber tooth crown rested on a black iron helmet. Her shield was as black as the rest of her armor and bore her personal symbol: a flaming skull.

Middletonian soldiers closed ranks and leveled their spears. They shouted. "For King James! For Queen Ann! For Middletonia!"

Hordeboken's Queen sneered. "A battle cry now ain't that special. I gotcher battle cry right here!"

Seven thousand hands joined hers in a theatrical grab at the crotch. The Queen drew her sword and pounded down the hill, her warriors right behind.

Spear men broke and fled for the gap. Their archers loosed a few arrows before joining the rout. They streamed past the wagons, whose teamsters made no effort to turn about. Wagons stood abandoned as they awaited the onrushing horde.

The Queen ran past with the boldest third of her warriors. Hundreds of the next third and most of the last third stopped to swarm over the wagons. The royal carriage drew special attention, as did a heavy wagon behind it with its iron-bound chests.

Drakken smiled as he watched. "This may take less time than we thought, Mother."

Mother and cousin were more cautious. "We'll just watch for now, Drewbie."

"But Mother, Cousin Eddie, why aren't we sending in the rest of the army to finish the battle?"

"Cuz, war's a strange gig; the minute you think you've got the tune down the drummer changes the beat. Nah, first we see if James has any tricks up his sleeve, seriously."

RB!

Hordeboken poured through the gap and pulled up short. No milling mob of fugitives lay before them. Instead in the half mile stretch between the two hill lines were three thousand spear men in battle array. They were not alone. The left half of the line consisted of men and women armed and equipped similarly to the barbarians of Hordeboken. Actuaria stood ready. On a hillock not far behind the trap-trap the royal banner of Middletonia fluttered. Five hundred archers readied their bows on the slopes.

Back in the gap rapacious hands brought war hammers down upon the pad locks of the chests again and again. At last they gave way and the lids swung open. But instead of heaps of gold and silver coins the would-be looters saw multicolored scales and golden eyes.

The Chaos Cobras exploded out of the binding chests and fell upon their victims. True to their name, they wreaked havoc with razor claws and envenomed fangs.

Eddie pointed to the scene below. "See what I mean, Cuz? You'd think you'd know to watch for tricks from a sorcerer." He started for his ride. "Auntie, could you give us a little hand? Haven't seen you work your party favors in a long time, seriously."

Mama King flicked fire from her fingertips. "Sure thing, Eddie Dear. C'mon, son, let's see what you learned at that MESS you call a school."

"Mother, the MESS is an excellent school." Drakken touched his alumni ring before slipping on his gauntlet.

The old woman grinned as she whispered to her nephew. "I tease him about it, he shoulda gone to WHAMMO. But he just had to stick with all his buddies from High School Magical."

RB!

Hordeboken reeled under the hail of arrows. Terrified comrades drove into their rear, hampering efforts to ready themselves for the formidable phalanx and fearsome host preparing to advance. The Queen wasted no time in having a call for help sounded.

On the hill overlooking the battle King James nodded his satisfaction.

"A good trap-trap." Chief North of the Fearless Ferret Tribe complimented Middletonia's true king.

"Thanks." His Majesty said easily. "It was a good team effort. Enchanting the extra sandals was simple enough, but the Twins' jinni clinched the illusion by kicking up enough dust so that one thousand men looked like three."

"And your false treasury was a brilliant idea." The Twevils smiled at their Father's praise. "I always hoped you two could find a way to harness your mischief for the greater good."

"Thanks, Dad. Now could we…"

"No, boys, stay right here. We might need you."

At James' right hand stood his daughter. The red headed beauty now received his attention. "And few things are harder than pretending to not see a trap that you know is there. It's one of the biggest things in selling a trap-trap. Good job, Kimmie-cub."

"It was no big, Dad." Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, replied airily. She turned to the bodyguard behind her.

"The hardest part was not having you with me, Ronman. I'm glad we can quit pretending that I killed you at the Lake."

Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan and the Fearless Ferret Tribe, shrugged. "Hey, it's strategy. The BBG is Middletonia's sword in the stone."

The Breeches Bandit Gang stood a little straighter as they listened to their leader. Ruthless the Saber Tooth Naked Mole Rat flexed his broad shoulders and put on his ferret helm. Moniquity, the Royal Best Friend and Queen of Thieves, put her hand on the cheek of Ronman's old friend Felix. He responded by pulling the dark beauty in for a kiss.

Wadelin no longer turned green at Moniquity's behavior. This day he eschewed armor in favor of an Alchemist's simple robes. He and the Twevils had another trick planned.

King James tore his gaze away from the unfolding battle. "Kimmie-cub, you better join your command."

"Yes, Dad." She gave him a buss on the cheek and led the BBG down the side of the hill to the waiting cavalry. They passed through the now idle archers. Two women stood at the apex of the formation. One had red hair, a mail bikini and purple accessories. Beside her was a more simply dressed blond with a mild expression on her face.

"Mom!" Kim and Ron cried. Again she beat him to the punch.

"Jinx! You…"

"I know, I know. Man."

The NSTMR shook his head. "I never thought you could be so slow with a shout out, Ronman."

Barbara of the Stoppable Clan hugged her son. "Oh I'm so glad you're still whole. Someone told me that you were a royal bodyguard now. Any chance for advancement?"

"We'll see." Ann smiled and pulled her own daughter close. "Barbara, this is my Kimmie."

Ronman's mother gripped the girl's hand firmly. "I'm happy to meet you. We haven't heard a thing from Ronman since he left home. And now he's with such a lovely girl. I hope everyone survives today, you must meet his father."

Kim found herself suddenly shy. "Thanks. We'll try to make it through."

The blond barbarian woman looked thoughtful. "If we can keep them from spreading us out in the valley, I'd say our chances are pretty good. Ruthless, you take care of these two. And Felix, who's your little friend?"

While Felix introduced Moniquity to Barbara another Actuarian walked up the slope toward them. The blond warrior slipped his bow over his shoulder and wrapped Ronman up in a bear hug. "Ronnie Boy!"

"Hello, Mr. Archer." Ronman gasped as the burly man set him down.

"Ron, we need to get to our positions." Kim called with dwindling patience.

"You better obey your superior. There will be plenty of time to catch up when this is all over." The big man smiled as he watched the boy join the group headed away.

RB!

"Um, Kim," Ronman began in as diplomatic a tone as a barbarian had. "I'm not trying to tell you how to run a battle or anything, but when we met you told me your Mom was a Go Lancer. Go City trains the best heavy cavalry in the world. Shouldn't she be with us?"

Moniquity and Ruthless shot each other a worried glance. Fortunately, the Red Kim was not angered by his question. Indeed she looked sheepish.

"Ronnie, I…well…I lied. Remember what I first said? The thing before I said Go Lancer?"

"You mean she was a…"

"Yes." Kim winced from the shame. "She skipped around a maypole holding one of those stupid ribbons! Not just that, she had the bells on her wrists and ankles. She even did those dances with the handkerchiefs and sticks! It's so embarrassing!"

His next question made Ronman's companions fear for his life. "Then why the mega sexy armor? We saw a dance at a festival in Middletonia and they just wore white dresses and flowers."

Kim shrugged. "Sex sells. You've got bikini mansion cleaning services, bikini wagon washes, why not a bikini morris dance troupe?

"Come on, we need to mount up."

Ruthless, Moniquity and Felix could not hide their doubtful expressions regarding Kim's story.

Ronman was beyond that. Kim's eyes seemed to have grown fainter and colder as she neared her horse and the promise of battle. And now the bodyguard could have sworn he saw a touch of frost glittering in her auburn hair.

RB!

While they watched the battle Ann and Barbara stretched in anticipation of future archery.

"You look amazing!" Barbara stared as Ann brought a foot up to the back of her head. "How do you do it with a kingdom and three kids?"

"Thanks. For one thing I didn't turn my children over to nannies. Chasing Kimmie was quite a work out. And then came the twins. Of course I kept up with my dancing. It's great exercise and James was always a fan.

"But I wish I had your upper body strength. And you aren't bulked out at all."

The Actuarian woman smiled in appreciation. "My work is my work out. The strength training, anyway; Hana provides the cardio-vascular,"

"She sounds like a handful." Ann laughed.

"Her favorite game is jumping up and down on the bellows. She's quite the little blacksmith's helper."

"That's so sweet. I bet Ron was an eager assistant when he was little."

Visions of the fire replayed in Barbara's mind. "We gave it a shot. When Felix told us about Kim we were kind of nervous. I mean, Ronnie always was a dreamer, but a Princess! I was afraid you'd be all 'we' this and 'our' that like your husband…no offense."

"None taken. James was raised in the Palace. My background's a little more common."

Neither had noticed that the man who had stayed a respectful distance away after Ronman and the others had left. Finally Barbara realized he was waiting and motioned to him. He came forward again.

"Ann, I'd like to introduce you to an old friend of the family. This is…"

"Mark 'the Target' Archer." Middletonia's Queen set her hands on his shoulders. "It's been a long time."

He grinned from ear to ear. "You remember me!" Mark turned to call out to two young archers who watched them. "She remembers me, boys! I told you; nothing but class!"

"Flatterer. The whole point of the business is pleasing the customer. How can you do that if you don't remember their names?"

"I'll never forget yours, Ann the Awesome!" Mark fumbled at a cylinder he drew from his quiver. "Could you do me a huge favor?"

Ann's expression was nostalgic as she unrolled the illuminated vellum. "A 'Tilting Field' souvenir scroll, from the 'Lapapalooza Weekend'. I didn't know there were any of these still out there."

"I've kept it all these years. Forgive me for being brash, but could you autograph your picture? I didn't have the nerve to ask back then."

"Of course. Give me a minute." The Queen walked over to a pack. "I always keep some ink and a stylus handy."

Ann poured a little water onto the block of ink and mixed it with a brush. "I'd forgotten about this: 'I'm laptastic!'" She chuckled. "I can't believe I let them put that by my picture."

The stylus was in her hand when she stopped. "Big Mike."

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Her bodyguard moved up, threatening to block out the sun.

"Take your cape, spread your arms and turn about." Once the soldier was in position Ann turned to Barbara. "Could you be a dear and do the same with my cape?"

"Sure." As Barbara held out the purple cloth she could hear the rustle of mail and the crinkle of vellum. In another minute Ann stepped out and handed the scroll to Mark.

"Validated, just like we promised we would. Help us reclaim Middletonia and I'll get all the other girls to stamp their circles. Sorry you can't redeem the program for anything now, we've been closed for years."

The fearsome warrior practically giggled. "Are you kidding me? No way I'd let go of this! Thank you; you'll always be Ann the Awesome in my scroll!"

Next he swept Barbara up in a hug. "Just another two months and two days and we're grandparents! Be sure to come by any time. Tara thinks of you and Dean as another set of parents."

"Whatever you did, you made him very happy." Barbara marveled as she watched Mark show his treasure to his sons and clansmen.

"It was a blast from the past. Besides, he's fighting now to reclaim a part of his youth. There won't be a deadlier bow on the field than his." Her Majesty retrieved her bow and looked it over. Barbara watched the woman closely.

_You have the common touch, but your mind's as subtle and cunning as any royal. If your daughter is anything like you, my boy is a goner. I just hope that's in a good way. _

RB!

Kim Krimson grimaced as she looked over her armored side saddle. It was embarrassing enough to have to ride a walking virginity marker, but a side saddle in a battle?

"I have to fight and command from this? I can't even defend myself in this position!"

"Don't worry, KK, I've got your back." Ronman tried to imitate the salutes he had seen in Middletonia and Hidden Valley. He succeeded in smacking his forehead with his sword hilt.

"Ow!"

From the right and below came a deep voice. "You may want to put your helmet on, Roman."

"But we're barely within bow shot and they don't have any archers in the valley."

"Ronman," his former pet answered. "it's always point blank range where your clumsiness is concerned."

The barbarian boy could not argue with the NSTMR. He reached for his helmet and the lance slung at his shoulder slipped.

Bonk! "OUCH!"

"Sorry, Felix. My bad."

Ronman's best friend rubbed his head as he reached for his own steel cap. "What did I leave home for?"

Somebody with a rather dark and beautiful body had an answer. "Plunder Buddy, I think it was for the loot and the boot…ae." She cupped his chin in her hand. "Aren't I worth leaving home for?"

Felix could hardly breathe. "Definitely! But when the season's over I'd really like for you to come home with me. Mom would love you."

For once the RBF was speechless.

RB!

The trap-trap pressed against Hordeboken. Middletonian soldiers thrust their spears as they advanced shoulder to shoulder. To their left Actuarian warriors swung swords, axes, maces and war hammers. Position, numbers and cohesion were on their side. Despite this the warriors from Great Neck fought on; dying hard and making the enemy pay dearly for every inch of ground gained.

Fighting died down as Hordeboken fell back to the narrowest point of the gap. A short, stocky warrior emerged from the Actuarian ranks. He pushed the visor back on his helmet. Dean, Head of the Stoppable Clan was unassuming in his demeanor but there was no denying the determination in his stance. "Your Majesty."

"Whatcha want?" A woman in black armor shouted.

"I'm just thinking about your safety. You may be brave and skilled but you can't defy the odds forever. Surrender now and your chances of survival jump by 78%, 98% if your command comes with you."

"You think you got me? You ain't got nuthin'!"

Dean shook his head and flipped down his visor. "I've tried to be fair." He lifted his sword and readied to yell the charge.

Braying horns cut him off. For the second time that day warriors swarmed down a hill behind a queen. Her armor consisted of bear hides except for the bronze breast covers. The strawberry blond wielded a double-headed battle axe: a full figured weapon for a full figured gal.

RB!

"It's Hackenslash!" Chief North shouted as he watched his Actuarians fall back from the flanking attack.

"H-How?" Kevin was taken aback. "We scouted those hills last night. We only pulled out this morning to keep them from seeing us."

Only King James seemed unfazed. "It's a trap-trap-trap. His first trap was the bait and our trap was the trigger that sprung his surprise. Actually it's pretty clever."

"That's not his reputation." The young Actuarian Battle Master mumbled.

"Consider this a life lesson." James answered easily. Then the complacency vanished.

"Archers! Concentrate fire on Hackenslash!" He rushed over to the other side of the hill. "Kimmie! The left is being flanked!"

"I'm on it!" Kim Krimson raised her lance and looked back at her command.

"Lancers, ho!"

Two hundred Middletonian cavalry raised their lances in salute. Ronman moved for his lance to discover it in Felix's hand. The brown haired boy smiled as he planted it into the ground. "Use your sword, Plunder Buddy."

The cavalry rounded the hill to charge. At three hundred yards there was no chance for the barbarians to organize a defense. Middletonia's warrior princess drove into Hackenslash's ranks with terrible effect.

Kim's lance was lost immediately. Before drawing Vivian Kim reached up and undid the clasp to her cape. A magic saddlebag opened and the crimson cloth was swallowed up. Then the Vivisectrix flashed in her hand.

As bodyguard Ronman had a cloak exactly like Kim's and now it was just as much an encumbrance. He undid the clasp and the wind jerked the cape away. It flew off and settled over a woman as she prepared to deliver a death blow to the young Actuarian she had unhorsed. By the time she pulled the cloth off a scimitar was in her face.

"Queenie, can I call you that? Let me say, I like the idea. You can't go wrong with a sharp contrast like that. But you've got it backwards: the black bear fur should accent the bronze and not the other way around. This is too masculine a look for someone with your curves. Tell you what; let my man take you to safety and when this is all over we'll work on your ensemble. You'll be stylin' and profilin' the next time you step out to kick butt and take names."

Eddie's second wife nodded disconsolately. Felix rested her axe on his left shoulder and pointed the way with his sword. As they walked he nodded at Moniquity, who rode back into the battle.

"Isn't she great?" he asked exuberantly. "I think I'm in love!"

RB!

Things looked grim for Hackenslash. The cavalry charge had caught them just as they engaged the Actuarians. Wherever their resistance stiffened a red headed demon appeared with sword in hand. To make matters worse, their queen was now a prisoner.

But if Hackenslash was down, it was far from out. Three thousand warriors were badly shaken, but three thousand more now prepared to enter the fight. Rugged terrain made for what was shaping up to be a providential delay. Kim and her cavalry were fully engaged with the first wave of tribesmen. There was no one to stop the attack as it bore down on Middletonia's Warrior Princess.

Now James was alarmed. "Jim! Tim! I hope you boys and Wadelin have something ready."

The Twevils shared an evil grin. They turned to their golem coachmen and spoke in the language of Magic; Old High Boulderarian. Each monster lifted a great clay jar and heaved it at the charging barbarians. They shattered among the rocks and a black cloud swept out, guided by a jinn. Dozens fell and most of the rest ran, somehow finding it much easier to ascend than to descend.

"So, what was that, Wadelin?" King James asked.

"It was my special knock-out mist. Its main ingredient comes from the mold you can only get from the inside of coffin lids."

"You hear that?" Tim asked Jim. "We're playing with stolen grave goods."

"Cool!" Jim smiled. "You want us to keep the cloud in place, Wadelin?"

"As long as the cloud keeps the sun off of them they'll remain unconscious. The others should stay away and the flank will be safe."

Back at the gap columns of fire rose as the wagons were reduced to ashes. The warriors of Hordeboken moved to the sides of the hills to make way for the next attack. The ground shook as something rumbled out of the smoke and dust.

Twelve Woolly Rhinoceros pulled the great yurt sporting the three Tribal Banners. Women warriors readied their unusual weapons. At the forefront a slender crowned woman plied a bow as she stood beside her husband. Eddie held the reins in his left hand while the right was lifted, fore and little fingers extended.

"Oh yeahhhhhh! Freehorde! FREEHORDE!"

Freehorde charged through the gap. This time the forces of Middletonia and Actauria split as no one could stand before Eddie's monstrous team. Another six thousand warriors followed the flowing lion's mane. The warriors turned to their left and right and began the task of widening the gap between their enemies' ranks.

"And I suppose this qualifies as a trap-trap-trap-trap?" Chief North asked testily.

Kevin shook his head. "No. We knew he had plenty of reinforcements. We just thought they would all come through the gap."

The young War Master checked his armor. "Time for commanding is past. Come on, men."

Kevin of the Guberman Clan led his war band down the hill in an effort to help stem the tide. Actuaria's elders and chiefs readied themselves to follow. "Are you coming with us, James?"

"Not just yet." The King's eyes drifted toward the Road of Kings. Misinterpreting his intent, his barbarian allies left in disgust.

James gave no reaction. Part of being a King was to act as needed, regardless of what others thought or felt. He turned to Captain Hobble. "Signal the cavalry!"

RB!

Two figures climbed the hillside of the gap. One, a blue-skinned many in cherry (no it's not!) armor turned to ask a question from the little, but not at all harmless, old woman.

"Now do we join the fight, Mother?"

Mama King shook her hands and the last sparks on her fingers went out. "What's the hurry? Eddie's taking care of things. Besides, you could get hurt with all those sharp and pointy things out there. It's okay for a barbarian to get down and dirty, but a civilized king watches and gives orders. Look at James up there on the hill. Now he knows how to behave."

Drakken's eyes glittered. "So I just stand here, looking heroic, and once Eddie has won the battle I walk regally across the field to claim my prize!"

RB!

At the moment Drakken's prize used a moment of calm to survey the situation. What she saw alarmed her.

Kevin's desperate counterattack had temporarily stalled Eddie's advance at the center. The great yurt turned to ravage Middletonia's ranks. Its warriors now deployed oars with steel blades. Where the razors did not cut, the broad blades sent men tumbling head over heels. Eddie grinned from ear to ear as he beheld his work.

"Total havoc! That's what I'm talking about, seriously!"

"We've got to stop that yurt!" Kim yelled.

"You might want to be careful, you could get yurt." Ronman cringed from a glacial glare. "Hey, just a little melee humor; trying to relieve some tension!"

"All right, people, CHARGE!" fifty cavalry followed Kim Krimson around the fight and headed for Eddie. It took only a glance for Kim to realize there was no way she would be able to ride through the mass of Freehorde to reach their king. As she rode past one set of combatants she seized the halberd from Eddie's man.

"Please and thank you!"

Sloth responded to a pull on the reins and Kim vaulted from the saddle. She somersaulted over the men in front of her and landed in the midst of the enemy, who fell back, or in some cases fell apart.

The Steel Cyclone ripped through the masses of Freehorde. Kim Krimson struck with every part of the halberd. The axe chopped, the spike pierced and the hook pulled warriors to the ground. Even the simple shaft claimed its share of victories as the mistress of sixteen schools of fencing used it to take the wind out of opponents or even knock them out.

Eddie's men swarmed upon her. For a moment it appeared that sheer weight of numbers would finally bring her down. Unfortunately for them Kim had another weapon to bring into play. A man who gripped the haft of the halberd was lifted off the ground by a knee to the gut. Once he let go a kick sent him sailing into a group of charging comrades.

Another man reached her before she could resume the halberd's motion. He received a palm to the chin. She threw an elbow behind her, dropping a man that she never saw but sensed was coming up from the rear. Her eyes flashed as she began to spin the pole arm again. Those nearest her fled.

Ronman and the other companions followed as best they could. Kim's wake did not last long and soon only the BBG remained behind her, their horses picking their way through the fallen. As the Actuarian watched her fight he realized two things: that he loved Kimila with a passion beyond life or death or reason and that there was no way on Shrom's frozen earth that he would ever defeat her in battle.

Grimstern's Leaping Sweep literally scared one man to death and sent his comrades fleeing. Kim landed and started to bring the blade up when something stopped her motion. Someone had caught her halberd with one of their own.

The blond woman sneered at Kim as she tried to force her weapon to the ground. Gravity was no advantage for her as Kim lifted her halberd with a snarl. In response the new enemy licked her lips and began to move to her right. The Warrior Princess saw more men looking to attack once the newcomer had turned her back to them.

"Shrom, the odds look good!" The BBG plunged into the twenty men advancing on their leader. A man leapt up to smack Ronman with his shield. The boy toppled from his saddle and onto his back. Ronman slashed out with his sword at the man's ankles only to watch the man jump over the strike. He barely rolled away from his foe's return attack.

His roll was uncontrolled, carrying him into the legs of several men who had just pulled Ruthless from his mount.

"Thanks, Ronman." The NSTMR grinned as the two stood back to back. Beady eyes glinted beneath the helmet as he studied the rippled forms surrounding them. "Even though I'm the same gender and a different species I've got to admit…these are some attractive enemies."

Moniquity was even more admiring as she fought her share of the beautiful people. She managed to avoid a flurry of blades only to be tripped by a spear shaft. The spear lifted, aimed at her heart. A boot rested on either arm, pinning her to the ground.

"Not exactly the impalement I hoped to end up on today." The Queen of Thieves gasped.

Suddenly a hammer smashed into the side of the spear man's helmet, denting the delicate hawk features. Its wearer passed out. He had not hit the ground before the whirlwind drove into his comrades. One doubled over when the hammer's butt struck him in his gut. The other spun to the ground from a two handed sweep.

"Are you all right?" Felix asked anxiously as he helped Moniquity up. They prepared to take on another set of finely cut warriors.

"All, right? I'm fine, Baby Boy." The dark warrior turned smiling to face her portion of danger.

_I think I'm in love!_

RB!

"Looks like you're going to have to take me on by yourself." The auburn haired princess smirked as she twirled her halberd.

"It's been a long time since I've just done one. Usually I take on five or more." Adrena's leer infuriated Kim. "Guess I'll just have to make you last."

Adrena launched herself into the air and brought her halberd down. Shafts clacked when Kim blocked the blow. Her counter strike was stopped easily. The two strained to push their opponent to the ground. Finally they jumped back to study each other. A pair of warriors started forward only to stop when their leader shouted.

"Help with the others…this one is MINE!"

"You hear that, Ronman?" Ruthless caught a sword on his own blade. "Since six are down, the odds aren't even four to one!"

Ronman needed all his skill and luck to survive the three men going at him. "Just keep your dudes busy!" One finally lunged too far and was treated to a shield rim to the chin.

"You better not have hurt that face!" His comrade shouted. The man's sword sheared through the leather of Ronman's belt, with the expected results.

"Oh, man! Even on the battlefield!"

RB!

Steel Cyclone was meant for multiple opponents. Kim went back to Raging Bull. It definitely suited her mood. Not since Shegoix had she wanted to take someone apart so badly.

And not since the demigoddess had anyone been so even a match. Adrena was fresh to the fight whereas Kim had been going full tilt for some time. She also knew Kim's fighting style. The smile on her face never wavered, no matter how narrow her escapes from the Warrior Princess' attacks.

The blades clashed again; this time the steel could not take the stress. Two hunks of steel splintered and their bearers almost fell from the forward momentum. Middletonia's champion drew her sword again. Her blond opponent produced a length of chain that she spun and twirled as they each sought an opening.

"This is gonna be freaky!"

_She'll freak all right, when she watches you twirl her guts before her eyes! _Kim roared a battle cry and lunged at her enemy. The fighting around the two had died down. Everyone wanted to see the duel; they could kill each other later. Most admired the power and athleticism of the two. Ronman shuddered as he saw how pale Kim's eyes looked in the twisted face.

Adrena jumped back from the thrusting blade and brought her chain down. Kim caught the links with her left arm. The thick leather of the gauntlets protected her skin and bones but nothing could defend her from what happened next. The bronze chain looped and moved on its own volition, bringing the manacle up to Kim's left wrist. Everyone watching could hear the click!

It was as though Kim had hit her elbow on something. Her left arm fell useless to her side. As confusing at that was, it paled in how infuriating Adrena's sneer was becoming. Her next attack sent the blond ducking and dodging, but she never let go of her spinning chains. Another snaked out, this one looped and latched around Kim's left ankle.

"KIM!" Ronman tried to rush to her aid but was stopped by two enemies and Ruthless.

"We can't interfere with a duel. You know that!" his old pet admonished.

"But those chains are bad mojo!"

"Not as bad as Vivian." Ruthless countered. "This is her fight. She'd never forgive you for butting in."

Kim turned and swung her sword. Adrena's hair took a strong resemblance to her king's on top as she barely ducked a decapitating blow. While ducking she made another attack. She shouted in triumph as the third manacle locked itself on her opponent.

The Warrior Princess stumbled as her other leg went numb. She snarled at her enemy, too furious for words. For her part Adrena twirled the final length of chain, careful to avoid the swipes of the Vivisectrix.

"Just one more of these and then comes the collar. You're too uptight…time to loosen up and get FREAKY!"

Kim tried to turn toward Adrena, but could not use her legs or prop herself up with her left arm. Still she would not surrender. Vivian lent her strength, but Kim needed no goddess to bolster her will. The tigress still had claws.

The huntress respected those claws. Magical links shifted, allowing Adrena to maintain a safe distance between herself and her prey. She moved to her left. Kim would have to roll over to keep up and when she did… The chain shot out when Kim rolled the manacle opening as it neared its target. Victory was mere inches away when it snapped shut and fell empty to the ground.

"Who did that?" Eddie's Champion roared. Long sword and dagger rang out from their scabbards as Adrena spun about to face her new enemy.

Instead of a man or woman she found herself confronting a mass of equine beauty. The woman of action could only watch as Sloth calmly walked around her and went over to Kim. Bronze manacles unlocked at the touch of a glowing horn.

Her limbs revived immediately and Kim sprang to her feet. "Thanks, Sloth. I can take it from here." But when Kim took a step Sloth moved over, blocking her path. He moved to left when she tried to go the other way. Kim stared in shock as her unicorn turned around.

Savage courage melted away as Adrena found large golden eyes staring into hers. A tiny whinny escaped Sloth's lips.

"He likes you." Kim smiled as she crossed her arms.

"He doesn't like me." Suddenly Adrena's eyes bulged in horror. "He can't like me! I'm sick! I'm twisted! I share my tent with twenty boy toys!"

The Warrior Princess arched an eyebrow. "Riiiiight. You've got the toys, you just don't play with them."

"That's not true! You should have seen the freakiness last night! I was right in the middle of it!"

Ronman spoke up. "You were in the middle of it, but were you in it? Depends on what your definition of 'in' is."

The blond woman's lips moved but it was as if she had lost the power of speech. Desperately she turned to the warrior closest to her. The man took off the helmet, modeled in the likeness of a demon's face. His golden hair contrasted with his bronzed skin.

"Adrena honey, there's nothing wrong with saving yourself for that special someone." He put his arm around the axe man beside him. "I'm glad I did."

"But, but…" Adrena sputtered and then raised her sword to charge Kim. She never had a chance. Sloth lowered his head, caught Adrena on her neck and threw her onto his back. Kim's tack and harness magically fell away before Adrena landed on Sloth's now bare back. The unicorn galloped off, his horn glittering. Bronze armor, leather padding and weapons dropped to the ground, leaving a blond girl in a simple white shift holding onto his neck.

"You've got the wrong girl, I'm freaky…"

Twenty-five people watched as Sloth left the battlefield with Adrena and entered the forest.

"He'll be good for her." Kim said.

"So, she was you guys' beard?" The Actuarian boy asked. "Dudes, in this day and age why the act? I know Eddie abolished the 'Defense of Barbarism Act' when he became King of Hordeboken."

"What's your birth order?" The question came from another of Adrena's warriors, a man with helmet shaped like a lion's head.

"Actually I'm an only child, but I have an adopted little sister. See? I have a scrimshaw portrait of her."

Everyone looked and said 'aw' before blondie resumed. "Then you know the pressures of being the eldest. You're expected to take over the family war band. And don't get me started on the whole perpetuate the family business! If I hear Mom say 'She's a nice girl." one more time…"

"So, you all took up with each other." Ruthless looked thoughtful. "Ten couples under one roof. Reminds me of growing up."

"For the time and place it was the best solution for everybody." Adrena's boy toy band nodded with blondie's statement.

Moniquity cleared her throat. "Now it's time to come clean with your folks. I don't know what I'd say if a child of mine told me, but I know I'd still love them."

"Guess you're right." A man wearing a black sugar loaf helm said. "I hate to ask; but do we have to fight now?"

One of the greatest strengths of Actuarians is their willingness to not fight. Ronman had the right words. "Dude, after what's just passed between us all, fighting would just spoil the moment."

Twenty men with strong bodies and big hearts walked away. Some were hurt, but they found hands willing to help.

"Never expected to see that on a battlefield." Felix put his arm around Moniquity.

"Baby Boy, whenever you find love, grab it and take it."

"Take it…" He started when warm lips met his and his tongue was too engaged to even think of more words. When Moniquity pulled back she was smiling.

"Take it, like that."

Pleasant thoughts were driven away by tremors. Kim, the BBG and Felix gasped as the great yurt bore down upon them.

"I'm coming for you, Red! Gotta get Drew his prize, seriously!"

The BBG scattered to either side out of instinct. Kim rushed forward, scooping up an abandoned great axe. Using it to power her vault, she landed on the broad back of a charging Woolly Rhinoceros. She deflected an arrow with the axe blade before she ran and jumped onto a Rhino on the second yoke. The axe struck at the tongue and team pulled away free.

Propelling herself from the creature's monstrous flanks, Kim landed on the yurt's deck. Freehorde's queen stared in shock before Kim punched her out.

"That's no way to treat a queen, seriously!" Eddie bellowed.

"You saw where she shot me as I was cutting away your team." The Warrior Princess winced as she smacked her left cheek. Fortunately the mail had turned the shaft. "Not exactly the way to treat a princess."

"You're both young. I'll teach her while Drakken gives you your lessons, seriously."

The Tribal King drew a huge spiked mace from the weapon's rack. It swung in a great arch, smashing the boards where Kim had been standing on the deck. Kim sprang over Eddie, her backwards slash taking a wing off of his helmet.

RB!

With nothing pulling it the yurt rolled slowly to a halt. The oar wielding guards had fallen over with the first rapid deceleration. They got up, only to find their positions being boarded by the BBG.

Ronman stood on the deck awaiting the charge of four women warriors. Instead of attacking they simply stared, looking smitten, until Ruthless came up behind them to take their weapons.

"What was that about, Ruthless?"

"Maybe we can find you a new set of breeches in the yurt after the battle. Could you help me tie up these girls?"

"Sure." He could not help but smile at a pair of sloe eyes. "Hi, I'm Ronman."

"Amelia. I'm enormous…I mean, enchanted."

On the other side Moniquity and Felix scored an equally swift and bloodless triumph. Tying the guards to their oars they went forward.

Three Actuarians and Moniquity watched Kim battle Eddie. No one dreamed of interfering and thus violating the Code Duello. The blond giant reduced the deck and rails of the yurt's front to splinters as he missed Kim again and again. His eyes glowed with a wild gleam.

Kim's were the cool eyes of someone using her head as well as her sword arm. She brought Vivian across and took the mace head off of its shaft. However, her foe was not mindless. Eddie whipped the staff at Kim's legs. Three friends and a would-be lover gasped as she topped off the yurt and onto the tongue.

King Eddie grabbed an axe from the rack. "Come on, Molly, let's see what Red's made of, seriously!"

He jumped down, intending to land feet and axe head at the same time. No fear registered in Kim's eyes. Hands provided the leverage for a kick that caught Eddie on the left chest with both feet. He spun, hit his head on the wooden tongue and fell stunned to the ground.

Kim jumped down, her friends joining her. She laid Vivian on his shoulder, the edge touching his neck. When his eyes opened she leaned forward. "Surrender."

"You got me, Red."

"Now, surrender your army or I'll…"

"Cha, as if! You won't do nothing I wouldn't do. If you win you can have a lopster fest if you want, but you don't butcher prisoners while they can still be rescued. It's just not right, seriously."

"Darn, he called my bluff. I'm glad you guys didn't invite me to that card game." Kim stood up straight. "Could somebody tie him up? And did anybody get his queen?"

"I'm on him, BGF." Moniquity produced a length of rope. "And I've already taken care of his little queen. I love playing with rope."

For the umpteenth time that day, Felix was glad he carried a shield.

RB!

So far the day had not gone as the Three Hordes had anticipated. Hordeboken had charged into a trap. Hackenslash's flanking march had been mostly blunted and to make matters worse, their King and two Queens had been taken prisoner. But this no more deterred them than the higher than expected losses. Numbers, the old saw goes, are meaningless in war, but it is also true that the gods favor the side with the largest battalions. Freehorde had Middletonia slowly giving ground s they pushed them back toward the ridgeline anchoring their right. Other of their warriors joined Hackenslash in driving Actuaria into a less defensible position. Many of Hackenslash's fugitives had moved onto the easier slopes, avoiding the black clouds as they joined the battle at last.

And in the center the Queen of Hordeboken threw her rested and reorganized warriors into the fight. Kevin's war band could not hope to stem the onrushing tide.

At the yurt Kim oversaw the preparations for the final defense. Eddie was now up on the yurt's deck with his queen and guards. Five friends readied themselves in the face of hundreds of enemies.

Ronman shifted his sword to his left hand so he could reach out to hold Kim's hand for a moment. She gave his a gentle squeeze when it was time to let go and get ready.

Black beady eyes glittered as Ruthless observed the enemy advance. "Perhaps this is a good day to die!"

RB!

On the knoll overlooking the field the archers fired their last arrows. Swords and bucklers were readied for the final charge. Ann slapped the flat of her sword against her buckler twice. Satisfied with her shield's grip she turned and nodded to Captain Hobble.

"Your Majesty, Queen Ann reports the advance is ready." The old soldier handed the King his royal helmet. "Do we have the order?"

James put his helmet on before answering. "No. Send an order to the infantry: refuse the left."

Hobble stepped back. "Sire, please reconsider. There's a chance, however slim, that we can regain the gap and live to fight another day. The sun will set soon, but there's too much time for us to wait."

King James did not answer as he checked his shield. Hobble grew desperate. "Sire, if we refuse the left they'll swarm all over the valley! We'll be defeated in detail!"

Brown eyes were unmoved. The King's tone was cool and imperious. "Refuse the left."

Somehow Hobble hid his anger. "As you command. Orderly! Sound 'refuse the left'!"

Horns sounded in the Valley of Flatbush. Middletonia's left pulled back, losing its tenuous link with Kevin's forces. Thousands poured into the valley, turning to the left or the right to roll up the now divided allies.

"We'll never stop that." Hobble groaned. "It would take a…"

Hundreds of bugles sounded. James looked back down the Road of Kings. He had watched the cloud of dust all day. No one in the Valley could have seen it, but still he and his sons had expended most of their sorcery that day to obscure it, just to be safe.

Five thousand heavy cavalry rounded the bend and charged past the knoll. Their leader looked like a lanky version of James except for the drooping moustache. His mount clanked like the armor it consisted of. Fey fires burned where eyes should have been. Beside him a red haired girl rode a mundane pony and waved a light lance.

"My, how Joss has grown." James sighed.

"Joss." Wadelin could scarcely breathe the name.

"But, Your Majesty, how?" Hobble marveled as King James signaled for his horse.

"Brother Slim's been waiting on his eastern pastures since the spring thaw. I sent him a message by magic gram the night before we marched. They had almost caught up with us when Actuaria warned us about the coming ambush."

"And you had to keep it quiet in case there were spies or traitors in our midst. Forgive my doubting you, Sire."

James waited for Hobble to saddle up. "No need to, my friend. Just another burden of kingship I wouldn't wish on anybody." The royal sword glowed in the waning sun.

"Archers, CHARGE!"

The charge took the Three Hordes completely by surprise, with their flanks up in the air. There was no pretense of a stand. Hundreds were ridden down in the first minutes, the rest fled. Thousands ran through the gap, or up the east-west ridge line. Many thousands more found no escape. Those unfortunates tossed weapons and shields down in surrender. Atop the heap was a black shield sporting a flaming skull.

RB!

An old woman walked down the side of the ridge, followed by a blue skinned man in his cherry armor. (It's not cherry! It's new! Well, not brand-spanking new, but it hasn't had a chance to see action.) When she stopped he tapped her shoulder before she could begin her work.

"Mother, why didn't you help? You could have summoned a Salamander or something like that."

"After taking out the last of those serpent demons and blasting the wagons in the gap I only have one good spell left in me today. I'm older than I look, Drewbie. You don't throw good magic after bad, besides, two enchanters and two conjurers are long odds for an old fire witch and a hypnotist."

"I'm not a hypnotist I'm a sorcerer! I just need a lot of time and materials to prepare a really powerful enchantment. The spell that won Middletonia took the better part of a school term."

"Relax, I'm just fooling with my little Drewbie. And don't worry, she'll come to you. I promise that within a fortnight she'll be wrapping those long legs around you."

"Mother!" he blushed.

Mama King stood up. She had placed a carved lump of charcoal at each of the four corners of the compass. Fingers flared up and flames erupted from the lumps as she chanted. Four columns of fire turned clockwise to form a vortex of flame. It lifted up from the ground, carrying Drakken and his Mother to Middletonia and safety.

RB!

At the yurt Kim, Ronman and the others watched the rout. The barbarian boy smiled at the Warrior Princess.

"That's one bon-diggoty trap-trap-trap-trap."

Kim had to do a mental count. "You got it right."

"I knew you wouldn't call it something neat like a 'trapatouie'."

"No, we civilized people like our terms to be exact." Vivian went back into her scabbard and Kimila pushed her kiss to the absolute limits. Ruthless, Moniquity and Felix caught him when he passed out.

"Wake him up." Kim grinned. "We have prisoners to take to Dad."


	20. Affairs of State

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: Sentinel103, Katsumara, Soth11, CajunBear73, JCS1966, screaming phoenix, King in Yellow, BlueEyedBrigadier, Michael Howard, MrDrP, and for all the others. Hope most of you survived. Extra special thanks to MrDrP for some cogent advice concerning this chapter.

Chapter 19: Affairs of State

**The great battle was over. Now comes the time that most tests the mettle of a Lord, how he handles victory.**

Though Middletonia's King was absent the throne was not unoccupied. Shegoix draped long luscious legs over the right arm of the throne while she reclined on a pillow propped against the left. Green silk robes trimmed with black replaced the signature armor. You cannot get a deep tissue massage through steel.

The masseur pulled the robes back up to cover her shoulders and moved to stand before the throne. A pale hand glowed green to melt the lock from the royal treasure chest. She moved her hand idly among the coins; finally Shegoix looked up and gestured to the man. "Just take what you think is fair."

Once he left she waved her hand to a servant, who came over most readily. He lifted a silver bowl to her. Shegoix speared a strawberry with a delicate pinkie. The sweet fruit made her smile; it was going to be a very good season.

Eyes turned to the center of the throne. Servants threw their hands up to protect their faces while the demigoddess watched the fire vortex dispassionately. After a moment of intense heat the flames was gone.

The old woman smoothed her dress and exchanged sneers with Shegoix. Behind his mother Drakken stood in his (yes, yes) still cherry armor. Shoulders hunched up and fists clinched in anger. Teeth ground against each other as the blue face threatened to turn purple.

Shegoix speared another strawberry.

"So, how'd it go?"

RB!

The Valley of Flatbush no longer rang with the sounds of battle. Victors organized prisoners and spoils while healers magical and mundane rushed about, offering what succor they could to the many wounded. At the center of the field Middletonia's banners clustered about their victorious King.

Among the figures headed toward the King was a slender girl covered in dust and sweat and gore. Her crimson gauntlet clutched a rope. The cord trailed back to encircle the waists of Eddie, King of Three Hordes and his youngest wife, the Queen of Freehorde. From her waist it snaked around the necks of eight guardswomen.

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, looked over her right shoulder at her own bodyguard. The blond boy's freckled face broke out in a smile, brown eyes twinkling. Her eyes trailed down from the helmeted head, past the brigandine coat and lower to the boy's prize from Eddie's yurt, something to replace yet another set of lost breeches. The only thing that would fit him was a set of chaps. While they covered his legs they left his loin cloth exposed. Green eyes narrowed as Kim could see she was not the only girl admiring the view.

"Mon!" the tweaked Warrior Princess snapped to a dark beauty that walked with her arms around the left arm of another Actuarian boy. "Come take the rope."

"See you in a minute, Cutie Pie." Moniquity gave Felix a peck on one cheek and a pinch on another. She barely caught the cord flung to her by the turning Kim. The Princess moved with purpose over to Ronman.

"Ronnie, could you be a dear and tell Dad we're on our way?" Kim smiled sweetly.

"I'm on it, KK!" The boy took off like a shot, covering the ground with breakneck speed, seemingly unaffected by the long day's battle. Her smile lasted until he was out of ear shot. Her head swiveled to the prisoner with wavy brown hair and sloe eyes.

"Just what were you looking at?" It was not so much a question as a challenge.

"What do you think?" Amelia answered in a sultry voice.

"You might want to rein things in." Kim said evenly. "It could get you in trouble."

"I've got a rope around my neck: how much more trouble can I get in?" The Tribal Girl seemed unfazed. "Besides, you've got nothing to worry about. He's been watching your action the whole time. You're the one who's making him tax his loin cloth. Guess I should thank you for the show."

"It's…it's me?" Kim stammered. She suddenly realized that she had her hand on Vivian's hilt. Quickly she released her disappointed sword.

"Why do you think he's tripped over every weapon and body he's come across? And we've all heard about that kiss you floored him with. What are you so insecure about when he's all wrapped up in you?"

Somewhat chastened (and definitely jazzed) Kim Krimson walked back to the front of the procession. She took the line back from the Queen of Thieves, who had been watching her friend closely. Moniquity cut to the chase.

"You better watch it, girl. Someday you're going to get in trouble if you keep reading the Scrolls of J'lous."

An auburn eyebrow arched in confusion. "My 'rents and Nana always encouraged me to be a voracious reader."

"No, you're getting all green eyed."

Now Kim was really befuddled. "I've always had green eyes."

"JEALOUS! YOU'RE JEALOUS!" Dark eyes rolled. "Don't lie to yourself: you were going back there to slit that girl open for looking at your Ron! Face it, Princess Tweaky, your boy's a hunk of eye candy that's filling in all the right places. Girls are going to look, but you're the one he wants to touch."

The Red Kim shrank back from the tirade but Moniquity was not yet finished. "That sword's eating you up from the inside. Sand Demons aren't as scary as you are when that thing's in your hands. And it doesn't have to even be there anymore! The look in your eyes when you were swinging that halberd, it was the same that you have when you use Viv. I wonder, if the mail hadn't stopped that arrow; would you have bled blood or ice water?"

She gave Kim no chance to answer. "Excuse me, Your Highness. It's been a long day and I need a little tenderness."

Forlorn green eyes watched Moniquity go over to Felix. The Actuarian did not miss his stride as he wrapped an arm around her. In response Moniquity relaxed with her head on his shoulder as they walked.

_Something so simple._

"Hey, Kim!" Ronman ran up. "Everybody's waiting for the heroine."

"We're on our way." When Kim saw that Ronman was going to resume his post she spoke again. "Ron, we're up here, Felix and Moniquity have the left and Ruthless is bringing up the rear. The prisoners are guarded on three sides. I think we can leave the right open."

"You're sure?"

"The guards have their hands tied and ropes around their necks, what are they going to do? Besides, Ronnie, I need help." She stuck her lower lip out and tilted her head.

"What do you want?" He asked urgently. "I'll do, say, kill anything you want."

Her voice took on a child like quality as she batted her eyes. "It's just that battle was so long and my hand is tiring out. Could you be a dear and help me with the rope?"

"You got it, KK. There, I've got the rope. You can let go."

The siren voice grew even softer. "Ronnie, I was hoping you'd help me hold the rope."

Actuarians are barbarians, not hopeless nitwits. His large hand moved down the line to cover the crimson gauntlet. "Oh, you mean like this?"

Kim sighed. "Thanks. I'll make it now."

RB!

The way was lined on one side by Middletonian soldiers and on the other by Actuarian warriors. Cavalry from the last trap rode along behind them all. Loud cheers brought red to two pair of cheeks.

His Majesty's great tent stood at the center of the Valley. The thrones were in place along with two more. A lean and lanky mustachioed man sat on one, beside him was a girl who bore a definite resemblance to Kim, though with light brown hair and gray eyes. Her armor was a less ornate version of Shegoix's. She jumped up and ran over to hug Kim.

"Hoowee! Cousin Kim, good to see you!"

"Joss, thanks for coming" Kim took the fierce hug in stride.

"Twern't no way I was going to ride this un out! Paw tried to get me to stay home, but we Possibles won't miss out on a scrap." She looked over at Ronman. "This your boy?"

"I hope so. Ronman of Actuaria, this is my cousin…"

"Joss!" The girl took Ronman's hand, shaking it vigorously. "Of the Free Riders. My Paw's the Head Honcho. That's Old Boulderarian for 'Chief'."

"Nice to meet you. These are my friends Felix and Ruthless."

"Pleased to meet you." Next she turned to Moniquity.

"Moni, girl. I love Kim's new armor! You've got to make me a set. It beats this old get up all to pieces." She touched a vambrace and the suit shrank into a bracelet. Instead of armor she now wore an embroidered blouse with breeches and high boots. "The boys would never take their eyes offen me!"

"When did they ever stop?" Everyone turned to the source of the hushed voice. Wadelin had made his way over to the gang. Dark eyes were wide and staring at Joss.

"Who's the new un, cousin?"

Cousin Kim suppressed a smile. "Joss, this is Wadelin, the final member of the Breeches Bandit Gang."

"Hi, Wadelin. Are you the brains? You don't look like a warrior or a thief. Whatcha do?"

"I'm a Malcontent…I mean Adventist…Alchemist! I'm an Alchemist!"

"You got your tongue knotted up like a cheap lasso and your eyes are big and brown like a colt." Joss smiled. "You're kinda cute."

"Really?" Wadelin's stricken smile prompted Moniquity to pull Felix down to where she could whisper into his ear.

"Sniff! Our little boy's growing up."

Everyone turned as trumpets flourished. A royal guardsman came up to take Kim's rope from her and she made her way to her seat. Ronman followed to take his place behind her. The Royal Ps beamed at their daughter before His Majesty turned to the business at hand.

"Let the prisoners come forward."

Eddie and his Queen moved to stand before the throne. Other guards produced the Queens of Hordeboken and Hackenslash. Four pair of eyes stared at James.

"Untie our guests." Daggers made short work of the ropes holding the royal captives and their guards. "Edward of the Three Hordes, we need to resolve our tragic differences. My best sappers are even now repairing your yurt so that you can take your people home in safety. While they do that, we shall discuss the terms of peace in my tent."

Eddie nodded. "You call the shots. Could you let my babes go back to the yurt and get some things for laters? They might want to get cleaned up too; scrappin' leaves ya pretty groady, seriously."

"Of course. Captain Hobble, arrange an honor guard for the Queens. Be sure they want for nothing."

After the Queens and their escorts left King James rose. "And now we honor our heroes from this day."

Another royal guard came forward with golden sashes. James took the first one. "To our ally, Dean of Acutaria, for his stand in the gap against the forces of Hordeboken."

Ronman waved, undignified for a guard but understandable, as his parents came to the front of the assembled Actuarians. Dean walked up to the King of Middletonia to receive his decoration.

"And to our ally, Kevin of Actuaria, for his heroic counterattack on Freehorde." Tara's first love and husband exchanged glances again. This time they were approving.

"Another ally of note is our daughter's Royal Best Friend and Fashion Advisor, Moniquity. Today she captured the Queen of Hackenslash."

Moniquity admired the sash. "Gold goes with everything."

"Will our royal niece come forward?" Joss left her seat to stand before her uncle. The girl's smile stretched from ear to ear. "For capture of the Queen of Hordeboken."

"Finally tonight we honor the one whose courage and ability saved the day again and again. Who prevented Hackenslash from turning our left, and then led the attack that saved our right. This person also captured the Queen of Freehorde and the King of Three Hordes in personal combat. May Middletonia never forget the name Kimila Possible!"

In truth Kim could have cared less had her name never been mentioned. Still, it was gratifying to hear hundreds shout it, and to see the look on her parents' faces. When she stood up she saw the admiration in a particular pair of brown eyes. That glow stayed with her as she bowed her head to have the sash draped over her shoulder by her father.

Oddest of all was the reaction of a blond mullet-headed giant. Eddie pumped a fist in the air. "Yeah! That Red can scrap, seriously!"

King James called out once more. "On the morrow we shall confer with our captains to determine which of our other soldiers are also worthy of notice. For now we must come to an agreement with our guest."

Middletonia's King and Queen entered the tent. Eddie followed and the throng relaxed. Ronman ran up to Kim.

"KK, I want you to meet my Dad. Kimila, this is Dean, Head of the Stoppable Clan."

"An honor, sir." Kim took his hand.

"The honor's all mine." Dean replied. "She's gorgeous, son."

"I know. And my KK can really swing a sword too. Or a halberd or axe or anything with an edge."

"That's an excellent quality in a mate. I met your Mother on a battlefield. You were born on a battlefield. And if I'm not mistaken you were con…"

"Okay, took much info." Dean and Barbara's son fought back the shakes. "I'm so happy you were here for the battle. I expected you'd be way away from home by this time in the season."

Dean looked unusually thoughtful for a barbarian. "I decided to stay closer to home this season. When you were born I was so worried about being the good looter that I spent nine months out of the year on the road. I missed most of your first moments. Now that we have Hana I want to be there for her."

Memories of childhood loneliness and disappointments came back to Ronman. "I didn't know you knew. You never told me."

"This is our way of telling you." Barbara said gently. "We can't make it up to you, but we can avoid making that mistake again."

"I hope he remembers." Dean looked at Kim. "Sons so often repeat the mistakes of the fathers."

"He'll be fine." Barbara reassured the Middletonian girl. "But you may need to repeat yourself from time to time. The men of the Stoppable Clan seem to be selective listeners."

"I listen." Ronman protested. His voice trailed off as he looked into Kim's eyes. "It's that I just get… lost sometimes."

Kim listened intently to the Stoppables' continuing conversation. She had heard herself discussed many times before when she hid in a listening post behind the throne room. But that had almost always involved questions of alliances, and the most personal it had ever really gotten was 'is she a virgin?' and 'can she stand up to childbearing?', hardly endearing the prospective in-laws to her. But here were people talking about home and family, real family, with all the love and tears and laughter. Never had she been considered as a person by the boy's family until now. _Next time, he __has__ to win._

"Your Highness." A guard saluted. "We have a bath prepared for you, along with robes of state for the concluding ceremonies tonight."

"Thank you." She sighed as she turned back to Ronman and family. "I need to get cleaned up. It's been great meeting you."

"Don't worry, there will be more time to talk on the march to Middletonia." Barbara hugged her. "Ronnie, I'm sure her bodyguard should be clean as well. I brought one of your best fur vests and breeches, along with a new belt; this one is completely faced with metal."

"Thanks, Mom, Dad." He looked down at the chaps and then at Kim, who blushed furiously as she turned her head and followed the guard. "The breeze is refreshing, but it may be too distracting."

The Heads of the Stoppable Clan watched their son retire to a tent. "Our son has the family curse." Dean sighed.

Barbara's eyes glittered as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "Curse? All men should be cursed like you are. I better go get his clothes."

RB!

Kim felt like a new woman in her pink robes and clean skin. Food had thoughtfully been provided in the bathing tent. After months in the field she could tear through a meal with the speed and gusto of any man. The manners so prized by her parents would wait for a more formal occasion: tomorrow's victory feast.

She hung Vivian off the left side of her throne. Ronman stood over to the right. He wore a fine vest of wild cat fur, tan leather breeches and a new belt decorated with large metal plates engraved with Actuarian prayers for victory on the field or at the track.

"Hey, KK, looking good. Pink's your color too."

"Thanks. And I must say the wild look suits you."

While they had been cleaning up Eddie's restored yurt had been driven up by the Queens of the Peoples from the Great Neck. Eddie emerged from the yurt, dressed in furs and gold and fine armor. Kim was a tad embarrassed at the missing wing on his helmet. The Queens followed, clad in cloaks reaching to the ground and wearing their crowns. Hordeboken's robe was black, Hackenslash wore gold and Freehorde sported a soft gray.

They stood behind their King on the opposite side of the fire across from the Middletonian thrones.

The true King and Queen of Middletonia exited the Royal Tent, along with Slim, Head Honcho of the Free Riders and his daughter Joss. The Twevils appeared from nowhere to stand, like Kim, before their seats. Everyone sat when the King sat.

James cleared his throat. "Good people of Middletonia, of Actuaria, and of the Free Riders. Witness the accord reached this evening between Middletonia and the Tribes of Hordeboken, Hackenslash and Freehorde. This accord has been freely and fairly negotiated, with neither threat nor bribery on the part of any party.

"The Three Tribes shall leave on the evening of the next day; after they have had time to care for and carry off their wounded and honor their fallen. They shall leave behind their war chest in restitution to the losses suffered by our peoples, along with the weapons, armor and gear of their fallen. In return their living shall depart without molestation of any type.

"We have also concluded that there shall be a peace between our people of not less than five years. At the end of said time, each side must inform the other if hostilities are to be reinitiated. Edward, King of the Three Tribes, are these not the terms we agreed to?"

The massive man nodded his head. "Yep, those are the terms. Now let's get this thing going, seriously."

He clapped his hands and the Queens let their cloaks fall to the ground. Three standards of feminine beauty glowed in the fire light: tomboy tough, voluptuous yet strong, winsome and willowy. They wore nothing but their crowns and jewels of state.

"Uh, Edward." James stirred uneasily on his throne. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Time to seal the deal. Winner takes one of the loser's wives. Pick the one you want, I guarantee any one of them would make a sweet accessory for your royal carriage. If you don't like these, you can have any girl from my Guard or from the Tribes that are here, but I'm telling you, the ones you see are the best of the best of the best, seriously."

Murmurs of appreciation rippled through the assembled Actuarians. The women were beautiful. Middletonia's King was somewhat more conflicted. "Edward, do the Tribes conduct all their treaties this way?"

"Cha! Of course, except for alliances; you'd have to sleep with all three and I'd get a spin with your woman. It's a way of bringing people closer together. We join. Who knows, the next King of one of the tribes could be your kid, seriously."

The last drew carefully concealed snickers from the Middletonian nobility. Polite as always, James spoke again. "We understand the intent and symbolism of your offer, but we must, in the interest of my own traditions decline, courteously."

Eddie appeared resigned as he shrugged. "It's your call, seriously."

Slender shoulders slumped as the Queen of Freehorde fell to her knees and bowed her head in front of her husband. The Guard Amelia handed Eddie his axe. His face was set in concentration as he leveled it just over his Queen's neck and drew it back.

"HOLD!" King James stared in shock. "Just what is the meaning of this?"

"Tradition. If the winner refuses the loser has to sacrifice his newest wife. Used to be the loser's choice, but too many kings were suspected of throwing fights. Now if you don't mind could everyone be quiet? Molly pulls a bit to the right, and I want to put it her through her neck, not bury it in her shoulders. She's a sweet girl and deserves to have this done this right, seriously."

Slim looked over at James. "Millie's been gone for a long time now. If you want I could do the honors."

"Sorry, no can do. No substitutions on the winner's part." Eddie started to draw the axe back yet again.

"HOLD!" This time it was Queen Ann who shouted. "And why not? YOU would certainly feel free to take a substitution."

"Yeah, why not?" The Queen of Hordeboken leaned towards Eddie, arms akimbo.

"I'm wondering the same thing myself." The Queen of Hackenslash took a similar pose.

"But honeys, it's just so…so…" Eddie's voice dropped to a whisper, "barbaric."

"And lopping off Swanhilda's head isn't?" Dark eyes flashed as the dark haired queen drew closer.

Eddie clutched the axe in his hand. But Molly paled before the ire of two angry naked Queens. He glanced over at his Guard. They joined their Queens in scowling. He glanced back at first Hackenslash, and then Hordeboken. "Brunhilda, Jackie, Babes…"

"Uh, Edward." James spoke up. "There has been too much violence today. Am I to understand that the issue here is that the KING can make no substitute?"

"That's it. There ain't no scepter but the royal one, seriously."

King James and Queen Ann looked at each other and nodded. They next turned to Slim, who joined in the unspoken agreement. James stood and motioned to Captain Hobble. The old soldier produced the Royal Scepter.

"Let it be known and recorded that on this night we appoint our brother, a Prince of the Royal House of Possible, as Regent, with all powers, duties and responsibilities of kingship. As sign of this we present to our brother the Royal Scepter and the Royal Crown of Middletonia."

"Thank you very kindly, brother." The newly crowned King of Middletonia turned to face Eddie. "Reckon you can deal with me?"

The King of Three Hordes looked at the women surrounding him. "I think we can make it work, seriously."

Slim turned back to smile at his brother. "Gave up the throne cause I didn't like all the high-falutin' ceremonies. Think I can manage this affair of state."

With all the dignity he could muster Slim walked over to Eddie and his Queen. He extended his hand down to her. A trembling hand reached up to take his. She pressed herself against him. While they stood there the Queens of Hordeboken and Hackenslash took Freehorde's cloak and draped it over the pair standing before them.

Eddie handed the axe back to Amelia and slapped Slim on the shoulder. "Peace out."

"Right back at you." Slim replied.

The couple turned toward the Royal Tent. As they walked the Queen whispered to Slim.

"Thanks. You won't regret it. I'd a lot rather give it than lose it you know."

"Give? Lose? It?" The light finally went on in Slim's eyes. "Ah."

The King still walked with grace and dignity, his face kind yet stern. Meanwhile, inside capered that naughty little prince that no man can ever fully conquer.

_Sometimes it's good to be King._


	21. Foreshadowing

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: Katsumara, MrDrP, Sentinel103, CajunBear73, Soth11, King in Yellow, screaming phoenix, JCS1966, BlueEyedBrigadier, Isamu, Michael Howard, bigherb81 and everyone else willing to tough out peace making.

Chapter 20: Foreshadowing

**My Lord and his allies had proved their courage, their subtlety and their ardor. Now events propel them on toward their various destinies.  
**

The day's battle and evening's negotiations were finally at an end. Night brought peace to the camps of six armies. (Each Horde counts as one; they're still their own peoples, seriously.) Exhausted soldiers and warriors lay almost as motionless as the fallen, deep in dreamless sleep. In most places the only sounds came from snoring throats.

Yet some still stirred, or moved or dreamed.

In the Royal Tent King Slim lay on his back. The lithe form by his side sinuously brought a leg up over his thighs and onto his stomach. Her eyes sparkled. "Please, my King, may I have some more?"

"Now, Swannie," Slim smiled and drawled as the girl began to pull the rest of her body up to straddle his. "We've already consummated the treaty. Isn't that enough peace in our time?"

"My King, there can never be enough peace." She gasped, looked behind her and turned back smiling. "I see the Naughty Little Prince agrees with me."

"He don't have a mind of his own. He…" Slim shuddered and smiled. "Ohhh, it is good to be King."

"Speaking of Kingships, does yours indeed end at dawn?"

Even though it had been years, Slim had retained the ability to multitask. "I'll give the crown back tomorrow, but it's up to me to decide when."

"We do not have such laws. Our Kings rule until a challenger can take the crown from him. Eddie killed my first husband. It's our way; you need strength in a King."

"Whatever you need to be King, I ain't got it. James can have the darned crown back, and all that goes with it."

"Excuse me, my King, but does that include me?" She leaned down, slowing her tempo and increasing friction. Her eyes glazed a bit but could not hide the worry.

Middletonia's temporary King reached up and touched her face. The gruff man spoke in a surprisingly tender voice. "That's your choice, Swannie."

"You mean…I choose?"

"Course you do! You can't be a Free Rider if you go around telling others what to do. My riders come with me 'cause they want to. You'll come with me 'cause you want to. If you don't want me, there are still plenty of young bucks that would love to court you. And you could always stay with my brother. Middletonia's a place worth fightin' for."

She could feel him tense and then relax. Moments later she was at his side again, laying her head against a broad, scarred shoulder. His arm held her close, but she could sense that he was in no way claiming her. _I choose._

"Your daughter, she would not object?"

"Millie died when Joss was little. She don't remember her Maw. I know she needs someone to teach her somethin' besides ridin' and ropin' and fightin' but I've just never met the right girl." His eyes, for once, could not hide what he was thinking. _Until now._

"Me, a senior wife…"

"Senior wife? Harems are for horses. When a Free Rider hitches up, it's always in tandem!"

"So I would be yours and you would be…mine?" She looked at him intently.

"That's the way we do it."

Swanhilda snuggled against Slim with a contented sigh. "Then, my King, I will definitely go with you."

RB!

Lacking a tent for the night, King James and Queen Ann wandered the camp. They had visited the wounded and now they walked about hand in hand. Ann looked at her husband. She could read eyes; it had been a matter of survival for much of her life.

"What's wrong, James?"

"We lost 132 people today. Actuaria lost 149 and Slim lost thirty-eight. Another hundred will most likely die of their wounds in the next few days. And they lost at least two thousand! All so that I can be King again! I tell you, if he were even half-way fit, I'd leave Drakken the throne and good riddance!"

Ann put her head on His Majesty's shoulder. "I read somewhere that only bad kings want the throne. Drakken lusted for the power. You use it only because you have to. And what you did tonight felt good didn't it? Saving a life like that."

He nodded. "You'd think with my powers I could do that more often. It's always 'be strong' or 'be feared' or 'be just', it's seldom 'be merciful'. And now I spend the lives of others to return to that and after me it will go to Kimmie! What kind of father does that to his daughter?"

"A Royal one. And you've taught Kimmie to be merciful as well as strong and just. There are worse legacies to leave a daughter, believe me on that one."

They came upon a battalion command tent, empty until the dawn. She led him inside and closed the flap behind them. A sly smile crossed her lips as she walked to the central post. "I think I know what you need. How about a little blast from the past?"

James sat down with a smile. Ann reached to the post, put a hand onto the post and slowly walked around the pole. As she did James began to hum softly.

"La da da da

"La da da da…"

RB!

While she was as tired as any other warrior the sleep of Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, was far from dreamless. She fled through the same rubble-choked streets under the same smoke filled sky. This time the voices were upon her as she fell. Grubby hands clutched at her legs as Vivian pulled her to her feet.

Where once merely colorless, Vivian's eyes were now white within white with snow flakes in place of pupils. Those fey orbs looked into Kim's face. "The time is almost at hand."

They stood on a hill outside of Uppertonia. Smoke belched from quarters of the Golden City. War machines hurled fire and stones over the walls, or at the wooden palisades covering gaps in the curtain wall protecting the city. Purple clad legionnaires constructed siege towers and battering rams just out of range of Uppertonia's own defenses.

Kim snarled at the center of the chaos. Shegoix sat in a heavily padded chair front of her green and black tent. Her reaction to the death and destruction before her was no different from someone watching a dull play. The pale woman yawned.

Captain Barkane led a band of officers, some Middletonian, others renegade Uppertonians. They stood at attention while he presented a parchment, arguing strenuously the entire time. The demigoddess barely seemed to notice her petitioners. Finally she waved her hand and an aide produced a smooth faced shield, ink and stylus. The careless signature brought predatory smiles from the assembled officers.

Vivian the Vivisectrix, Tear of Elisthar, turned back to her Battle Maid/Apprentice. "And so Uppertonian's doom is sealed with a yawn. Once the war machines are ready and the wall is breached, Barkane will lead the assault and Uppertonia will fall. The city has another week at best.

"Shegoix has 25,000 trained legionnaires plus another 17,500 Uppertonian rebels. They have a full siege train to throw at already weakened walls. And Uppertonia has hardly a wizard left worthy of the name. The only thing slowing Barkane down is Shegoix's boredom.

"Your father will bring no more than ten thousand men to Middletonia's intact walls. He has no siege train…and no stomach for spilling his own people's blood."

Fair skin paled as Vivian leaned in to hiss into her ear. "I suspect you father has no desire to be king! While you risked your life to restore your family he was content to stay in Hidden Valley and sport with his wife!"

_Gorchy. _Kim felt her hand tighten its grip upon her sword. "He is a good man, and a good king!"

The laughter from Vivian's lips was like ice sickles striking a tombstone. "I am not goading you, Battle Maid. This is merely the truth. Even if your father was as aggressive as Eddie, even if he could add those warriors to his ranks, he could never take Middletonia in time. If your city is to be saved, you must save it."

An upraised crimson gauntlet brought silence. "I know, Viv. My pride lost Middletonia. My desire lost Middletonia. If anyone must pay the price to regain it, let it be me."

"Spoken like a Warrior Princess, and a Tear of Elisthar."

RB!

Ronman looked about the Dreamworld. Mighty fir trees told him he was home in Actuaria. The heavy mists ahead revealed his exact location: Mount Hissensteam. His heart raced; the sacred mountain was Actuaria's prime trysting ground. Its misty foothills and warm pools welcomed lovers even in the depths of winter. _Maybe Tara's helping us again. _

"Ron." Kim's voice made his heart race.

"Kim!" he yelled. Giant gouts of steam obscured his view.

"Ronnie." He could see her silhouette in the mists. Kim made her way along the rocks. In moments she emerged. She wore a dazzling white dress. Yellow flowers peeked out of her auburn hair. More colorful blossoms encircled her waist. Arms opened wide as she ran toward him.

"Ronnie!"

Something brought her up short of his grasp. Kim lurched like someone about to be sick. She clutched at her throat. _Is she choking?_

Another spasm took her, accompanied by a terrible rending sound. Kim swayed as a sword worked its way out of her chest. Its tip stopped just short of Ronman. He could see the Actuarian runes glowing through the blood and gore.

**Dibs**

Kim stared at the blade in shock and horror. Through supreme effort she lifted her face to Ronman. Green faded from her eyes. Instead of blood, tendrils of frost leaked from the corners of her mouth.

"Ronnie, I lo…I l…"

A corpse of frost fell at Ronman's feet. It melted on Hissensteam's hot stones before he could drop to his knees to touch her. Even Vivian had become an ice blade, melting away and thus escaping his wrath.

"KIM! KIM!"

Ronman jerked up from his pallet, sword drawn. Ruthless' beady eyes pierced the darkness of the tent to peer at him.

"What is it, Ronman?"

"Just a dream." The Actuarian boy half whispered, half prayed. "Just a dream."

RB!

Days to the north a blond girl sat up as quickly as her condition would allow. Blue eyes glowed silver. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

Tara's mother stirred at the sounds. "Honey, are you all right? Is the baby…"

"Darla's fine, Mother." Tara could not hold back the tears. "It's Ronnie."

"No." the older woman moaned. "No. Did Shrom take him?"

"No, Mother. He's fine, as are my brothers and Father. I was in the Dreamworld when I happened upon Ronman's dream. It confirms what I sensed the time I walked along the River of the Future. Unless something changes, Ronnie's love will lose her soul to the Sister of Shrom."

RB!

Not every dream that night was horrible or even the product of sleep. Wadelin sat with Joss in her tent. They had talked and laughed for hours. The only thing that stopped them was when a metal horse poked its head into the tent and softly snorted fire.

"Tornado says it's time for you to go." Joss stood up and lifted Wadelin onto his feet. Slim's enchanted mount walked away to leave the two youths alone in front of the Head Honcho's tent. Joss resumed their game.

"Honor or Courage?"

"Courage." The Alchemist answered.

Her smile mystified then thrilled him. "Kiss me."

Wadelin did not lose his courage. Nor did he feel the ground beneath his feet as he walked to his own tent.

RB!

Dawn cast its light on a splendid assembly gathered before the Royal Tent. Rulers, captains and champions of Middletonia, Actuaria, the Free Riders and the Three Hordes waited for the flap to open. They did not have to wait long.

Slim and Swanhilda emerged side by side. He wore Middletonia's crown and carried the scepter as though he had never given them up. Once again Swanhilda covered her body with her soft gray cloak. It opened to reveal an indigo silk riding blouse. Gold and silver threads held sparkling gem stones. White riding breeches were tucked into knee high boots. Thanks to his rough and tumble daughter, Slim never went anywhere without an enchanted sewing kit. The Free Riders roared their approval when he lifted her hand in his.

Jackie and Brunhilda came forward. Swanhilda handed over her crown and state jewels. The Queen of Hordeboken put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Eddie's Guardswomen laid Swanhilda's arms, armor, furs and treasures at her feet. A moment later the smile disappeared from Swanhilda's face.

Eddie stood in front of them, a child in his arms. Slim walked up and looked at the boy.

"Is he your'n?" he asked the King of Three Hordes.

"Don't know for sure. Old King banged her the morning of the duel. I had a spin that night. Only thing for sure is that it's her kid. Question is, does he go with me or stay with her?"

The Head Honcho peered at the boy. Light blond hair was common enough, but those were the same eyes that implored him from a lovely oval face.

_You'll take another Queen quick enough, a woman who'll see this boy as somethin' in the way of her young uns. My bow still twangs, but don't know if the arrows are still fletched. Anyway, I'd sooner face a Grizzly with a needle than come between a Maw and her young un._

"Joss, come her and say 'howdy' to you new baby brother."

"YEE-HAW!" Joss snatched the boy from Eddie's arms. "I'm gonna learn you ridin' and ropin' and fightin'!"

"We'll be taking off." Eddie gave Slim a friendly punch to the shoulder. "Got the graves dug last night. Toast or two and we'll be gone by midday, seriously."

"Take your time."

"See you again, dude." He waved to Swanhilda. "Take care of the fur rat. He just might have a famous face, seriously."

Three women exchanged hugs before the elder two walked back to the Great Yurt. Woolly Rhinoceroses pulled it around. Eddie's voice drifted back to the Royal Tent.

"So, Amelia Babe, you're Freehorde, right?"

"Seriously, my King?"

"Seriously."

RB!

Minutes after the yurt and Tribesfolk left James and Ann appeared, looking relaxed and well rested. The former King cocked an eyebrow at Swanhilda in her new Free Rider clothes with her son on her hip. "I see you wasted no time, Your Majesty."

"Don't call me that." Slim growled. "I did my bit. Are you ready?"

"If we must." James sighed.

King Slim called out. "All right, all you whipper-snappers. I hereby give up the Regency. Brother James is again King of Middletonia and Ann is his Queen."

Brother handed the burdens and cares of a nation back to brother. Despite his sleep James no longer looked rested. Not even a huge moustache could hide Slim's grin.

Captain Hobble stepped forward. "All hail King James, Victor of the Battle of Flatbush!"

"Hip! Hip! HOORAY!"

"Hip! Hip! HOORAY!"

"Hip! Hip! HOORAY!"

A blond young barbarian tapped the shoulder of an auburn haired beauty in a pastel blue dress. (A great look that was ruined just ruined, by a crimson sword belt and scabbard; at least in the opinion of the RBFFA.) He was a bit distracted by her smile.

"Kim, I wanted to ask last night but everyone was so tired…"

_He wants to set the duel for today! I know I had said I wanted to wait until the war was over, but we're going to stay put today. C'mon, Ron, forget what I said back in Hidden Valley! _"Yes, Ronnie?"

A pair of older barbarians was on hand to watch. The woman leaned over to whisper to the man. "You hear that, Dean? She calls him Ronnie! Just like Tara always did."

Ronman stammered on under Kim's warm gaze. "Uh, Kim, I, uh, hate to sound like a dumb barbarian, but…I need to know…"

"Know what, Ronnie?" _Say the word, I'm ready._

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "What is that Regency thing your dad and uncle keep talking about?"

"Oh." Her smile faltered. "A Regency is when someone not the Monarch assumes royal power in the Monarch's name. Usually it's because the Monarch's too young to rule, but it can also be due to illness, or the Monarch being out of the country, that sort of thing."

"So Slim was a substitute ruler! That way he could do…"

"The Treaty!" Kim blurted as her face burned red. She reached her left arm behind her back to grasp the right. Eyes looked at the ground. "Yes, Uncle Slim had to finish up the Treaty last night."

Kim Krimson was not the kind to be off balance for long. Her eyes grew large and glowed. Leaning forward she asked in a breathy voice. "There was something else you wanted to ask?"

"Now that you mention it. Why did they call your Dad the Victor of Flatbush? He hardly fought at all! If anyone won the battle it was you."

Princess Tweaky ignored the compliment. Eyes flashed, fists clinched. "Ronman…"

"Let us handle this, dear." Barbara placated Kim. "Ronnie, there's a tendency to credit commanders with victories or saddle them with defeats. Even we do it."

"Your Mother's right." Dean joined in. "Last year I led a major raid and sacked a city. Three thousand warriors went with me but I got the Actuarian of the Year Award for it. And civilized folk are worse; if you read their histories you'd think only kings and generals fight wars."

By now Kim had calmed down. "Ronman, we need to go to Wadelin. He should be able to answer some questions about Uppertonia. Nice to see you two again."

"Please, call us Dean and Barbara." Dean said easily.

"You kids have fun." Barbara waved as they left. "Our Ronnie has found a firebrand."

"What can I say? We Stoppables have always liked our women hot and feisty." Barbara's glare shattered against Dean's mischievous grin. The slap to the back of his head was very, very soft.

RB!

Being loving and concerned parents Dean and Barbara wanted to know more about Ronman's relationship with this girl who so clearly had his heart. Being good Actuarians they knew exactly who to consult for the inside information.

Fragrant smoke wafted up from dozens of cooking pits. Two figures walked among the cooks. One, a short young man with sharp features, wore the sash of a Commissary Officer. The other was a short and brawny Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat. They stopped to watch soldiers scoop away the last bit of dirt and begin lifting the dampened canvass covering the whole roasted pig.

Whiskers twitched. "Ned, do I detect the subtle use of capers?"

"Right. I think they're just the thing for pit cooking."

"Bet they'd be great with smoked moose." The deep voice of Ruthless rumbled.

A soldier ran up to salute Ned. "Captain, the field ovens are ready. We can start with the coo…cook…"

Ned frowned. His voice snapped. "Cookies, man, cookies! Those recipes are the future of Middletonian desserts! Learn them! Love them! LIVE THEM!"

The soldier took off, leaving Ned to snort derisively. "They give me the men deemed useless in battle. Did they ever think of how dangerous they can be to our own men?"

The Commissary Officer stormed off. Ruthless remained behind; assisting the men in lifting the pig from the pit. He also filched a piece of blackened skin. Dean and Barbara came up as he licked his fingers.

"Ah, Dean, Barbara, we're in for an excellent victory feast."

Barbara was not interested in food. "Ruthless, we want to talk about something more important than a high-end buffet."

"You must mean Ronman and Kimila."

"They clearly love each other." Dean said. "But it doesn't take a shaman to see…"

"That you couldn't cut the sexual tension between those two with a Lochaber Axe." Direct as always Barbara stared at Ruthless. "What's holding them back?"

"Well, while there is some emphasis on purity it's more than that. Kim's foresworn. Ronman has her heart, but to win her love he has to defeat her in a fair fight. Dean, you were in the Gap yesterday, but Barbara saw Kim in action."

"She is amazing, Dean. But we didn't raise a coward. I assume he's tried already?"

"Twice. First time he disarmed her; unfortunately she as able to pick up two more swords. The second time was a formal duel."

"Formal? How romantic!" Barbara and Dean exchanged glances conveying fond memories.

"Well, it was rough. She bested him with sword, bare hands and barrel."

"Barrel?" they asked.

"It was improvised on Ronman's part. It almost worked. Just before the march on Middletonia he challenged her again. He's developing a real flair for the romantic."

"But does he have a winning strategy for the next time?" Dean's face showed fatherly concern.

"We haven't discussed anything yet. I wish we would; a Warrior Princess with a magic sword is a deadly combination. But there's more to it than that. This isn't just some battle of the sexes. Kimila's oath goes beyond just steel enforced chastity."

"Maybe we should talk with her parents, Barbara."

"Dean, did you talk with your parents about the plan to 'kidnap' me?" Barbara shook her head. "There's one person who should know everything, if anyone does.

"Ruthless, where's Moniquity?"

A pink paw pointed due south. "With Felix on the north-south ridge line. A half mile down there's a copse of rare Giant Flat Top Cedars. He asked her if she wanted to join the 'Hundred Feet off the Ground Club'."

RB!

Meanwhile, 157 (!) feet above the forest floor Moniquity was having the time of her young life. Ten feet of branches and needles compressed to form a most amazing platform, especially when topped with soft furs. The cool breeze on her skin, the clean smell of the cedar, the bright blue sky with soft white clouds, it was amazing.

But all that paled when compared to the one with her. Felix looked fantastic, felt fantastic. The way his fingers entwined with hers, his strong yet sensitive lovemaking, and the look in his eyes. At first she was admiring his body, but now she could not take her eyes away from his.

No one else heard what was said next, but the shout afterward could be heard from a quarter mile away.

"Jinx, Baby Boy! You owe me a cup of wine!"

RB!

"You can practically smell the pheromones." Ruthless seethed.

Dean apologized for the hundredth time. "I'm sorry. I tried, I really did. We were rushed, the City Guard was counterattacking and well…I picked up four more! Odds were at least one should have been female."

"Did you even bother…" Ruthless mastered his temper. "It's understandable, until puberty even we have trouble sexing each other."

RB!

The Great Victory Feast started right on time thanks to the tireless efforts of a certain Commissary Officer. Soldiers and warriors gorged themselves on roasted meats, braised vegetables and fresh breads. They guzzled wine and ale and the Middletonians were floored by the introduction of the cookie. Music played and dancers were ogled. They celebrated throughout the afternoon and into the evening. Come nightfall the satiated men and women turned in, ready to return to war in the morning.

One table still sat in the torch light. King James held his War Council under the stars.

"Leaving our wounded, their care givers and sufficient guards behind leaves us with no more than 3,100 men for the march on Middletonia. And what of Actuaria?"

Chief North shifted in his seat, taking care to not bump the table with his broken shield arm. "Two thousand will march with you. Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan will lead them. We stripped our lands of defenders in the middle of Plunder Season. Besides, we have our own worries. I'm sure Ronman noticed we have no Seanites with us."

Neither boy nor NSTMR could fully repress the shudders.

"Ronnie." Kim leaned over and whispered.

The Actuarian's eyes stared straight ahead. "Long story, KK. Scary story."

The old chief went on. "We received word from their Chief, Sean Vicious. Something is stirring on their eastern border. I'm going to investigate. Kevin of the Seeing Clawers will return with me to help organize Actuaria's defenses. We need someone young for this, someone who can think on his feet."

Kevin looked apologetically at Ronman. "Sorry. I'd love to come, but I don't have any experience at sieges. That's your dad's specialty."

Slim spoke up. "You've got all of us, Brother, a full 4,900." He took Swanhilda's left hand in his own and squeezed it. Her right gave Slim her Tribal Sign.

James' smile was grim. "That gives us ten thousand."

_Ten thousand and no siege train. _Those sitting across from Kim noticed a cold light coming off of the pommel the sword that hung off the back of the Warrior Princess' chair. Kim spoke. "Your Majesty."

"Please, Kimmie-cub, call me 'Dad'."

_Please, don't call me that. _"Dad, we have to march at once! Uppertonia is under siege by Shegoix. The assault will start any day now."

"And how do you know that, Kimmie?" Ann asked, eyeing her daughter's sword.

"I, uh, have my sources." Kim looked from her mother back to her father. "Your…Dad. We have to liberate Middletonia before Shegoix sacks Uppertonia. Rhodigan and Go City might not listen to us if we don't stop Drakken before then."

The Head Honcho agreed with his niece. "She's right. Drakken has to know we beat his cousin. I'll ride ahead with my men. We can get there in two days. Maybe we'll get lucky and force the gate."

Kim pressed the issue. "You'd need a distraction. I'll take Ronman and the BBG tonight…"

"You will do no such thing, Little Lady." His Majesty used his no-nonsense tone. "You were in the thick of things all day yesterday and I hear you did not sleep well last night."

_I never sleep well anymore. _"But, Dad."

"No 'buts'. Kimmie, you'll ride with your Uncle at dawn. And he'll provide the distraction for you."

"Distraction?" Kim leaned forward.

James took a small amulet from his belt. "This is what I gave Moniquity when she left to spy on Drakken the last time. It enabled her to retain her memory."

Moniquity held up a gold chain with a glittering rune encircled stone. "Of course, mine is a one-of-a-kind piece."

"Just like you." Felix whispered.

"Keep that up and I'll have to shut you up with a kiss. Think they'd notice me getting under the table?" Her fingers reached his lips before he could speak. "Later, I promise."

Only Felix failed to pay attention to the King. "Thanks to Jim and Tim and Wadelin we were able to devise enough of these for our armies plus a few dozen more. But we can't make enough for Middletonia, especially not in the time we have. Take this one, Kimmie, and go to the Tower of Cyrus Bortelair. If there's anyone who can help us break Drakken's spell, he's the man. I wish we had the plans to his Tower but…"

Wadelin tapped his forehead with a finger. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I have the blue prints right here. I memorized them for a job."

"What job, Wadelin? Zoning or permits?"

"Larceny, Your Majesty."

Joss touched Wadelin's arm. "So you're an outlaw?"

The former slave and Alchemist saw no reason to lie. "Proud member of the Breeches Bandit Gang."

"Cute and dangerous. I think I _like you_ like you."

"Aieed, uh…" His only coherent answer was a smile.

James chuckled. "When you need a thief, use a thief."

The King rose and drew his sword. He drove the tip into the table. "Kimila Possible, you will take the Breeches Bandit Gang, your Royal Best Friend, and her second shadow and ride to Middletonia with our Brother. Your Quest is to enter Bortelair's Tower and bring him to us. You will leave with the Free Riders at dawn.

"The infantry will leave three hours after your departure. We'll travel light; the wagons will just have to keep up as best they can." He cocked an eyebrow at Slim. "Try to leave the roads clear, Brother."

"What happens on the road stays on the road." The Head Honcho said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Enough." James said with a similar gleam in his eye. "This War Council is concluded. We bid everyone good night."

The War Council rose. Ronman looked into Kim's eyes, seeing desire mixed with resignation. "Don't worry, KK. I've got your back."

"Oh, we'll make it." She answered. "I've got the best reason in the world. I'm going to duel you, mister, quests and battles notwithstanding."

Her forearms rested against his chest as she pulled him forward. There must have been something in the air that night. Six couples kissed with varying degrees of passion, from youthful and chaste to get-a-tent-already.

Ronman used the table to support his wobbly legs. "Abooyah."

Wildness gleamed in Ann's half-opened eyes. "It's good to be Queen."

"I ain't a King no more." Slim started.

"But you've still a Naughty Little Prince." Swanhilda teased.

Dean smiled at Barbara. "What are the odds?"

She touched her forehead to his. "They'll never be better."

Meanwhile Felix and Moniquity exchanged a single word. "Jinx."

And Joss and Wadelin blushed and giggled. Wadelin put his fingers to his lips. "This is so much better than on the cheek."

Captain Hobble and Kevin assisted Chief North to his feet. Neither age nor wounds could keep the wistfulness from his voice.

"All War Councils should end like this."


	22. Returning Memories

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: Sentinel103, Katsumara, King in Yellow, screaming phoenix, BlueEyedBrigadier, bigherb81, JCS1966, CajunBear73, Isamu, MrDrP, Michael Howard, That Swedish Guy, keth1, whitem and to all the others who never saw it coming.

Chapter 21: Returning Memories

**Thus went another day of joy and desire surrounded by nights of dread. My Lord now knew that he would never face longer odds. But he had love, hope and finally a plan.**

Dawn came far too early. This was especially true for those who would be separated on the march. Two families steeled themselves against an uncertain future.

Ronman hugged his parents. Dean, Head of the Stoppable Clan, rubbed his son's head.

"Take care of yourself, son; and Kim."

"Don't worry, Dad, Mom. That's one body I could guard forever."

Barbara spoke before her son blushed too hard. "Son, I want you to do more than watch and guard. I want you planning for your next duel. From what I've seen she's easily flustered."

"Oh, she is! When we first fought I caught her flat footed after some water ran down her cleavage. At the formal duel I turned her taunt into a double entendre…"

"Entendre?" His parents asked.

"Royal tutor word: means smart but naughty. I almost got her that time too."

His father shook his head. "You'd think that with the way she dresses she'd be a little harder to trip up."

"Well, I'm working on a new strategy. We'll talk about it after the battle."

"Fair enough." His parents gave him another hug. "And take care of them, Ruthless."

"I will, Barbara." The Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat vowed.

As Ronman's parents went over to Chief North someone else approached Ronman. Kevin of the Guberman Clan of the Seeing Clawer Tribe extended his hand. "I start back for Acutaria tomorrow. Do you have any words for Tara?"

"Tell her if our kid needs anything to just let me know. And could you give her this?"

He reached into his shirt and pulled out a length of blue cloth trimmed in silver.

"Tara's loincloth." The Battle Master whispered. "She wears the top often. When she does I know she's thinking about you. You don't have to do this, friend."

"Yes I do. There will always be a place in my heart for her, but it's time we both moved on. She has you and I have…I will have Kim someday."

The object of his vow watched Kevin stuff the favor into his shirt. Some of her tweak faded. That and the beautiful sunrise helped melt away Vivian's cold words from the long night before.

"Did you ever doubt he was yours?" Ann gave her daughter a warm smile.

"No, Mom, I just pray that one day I'll be his."

"You will. He's an Actuarian; they're masters at beating the odds. Just remember that when you have love you have everything to live for."

For once Vivian had no retort.

"Thanks, Mom. I'll remember that. See you in Middletonia."

Next James hugged her. "Good luck, Kimmie-cub. Like the new outfit."

Kim wore the clothes of a Free Rider as did the BBG. "Security, Dad. Don't want them to know we're coming. And I'm so glad I won't be riding Sloth any time soon. I bet he'll need months to turn Adrena into a proper lady."

RB!

In a secluded glen a unicorn watched anxiously as a young woman with spiky blond hair lifted a cup and saucer. Adrena raised the cup to her lips, sipping without a sound. Sloth's ears perked up.

"I think I've got it." The girl breathed. "Tea does taste better when sipped. And I finally understand why the pinkie's extended. Somebody disses you and…"

Her hand shot out and she drove the small digit into the eye painted on the gourd topping the dummy next to her. When she pulled her finger out pulp and seeds sprayed her simple white dress. "What do you know? I didn't even chip the cup. FREAKY!"

Sloth gave an equine sigh. Sparkles gathered around his horn as it cured yet another headache.

RB!

"Don't worry, Kimmie-cub. Uncle Slim has a horse for you."

Kim watched her uncle lead a magnificent black horse toward her. Slim looked bemused.

"Don't know why your Paw asked, but I've trained a few for this."

James put his hand on Kim's shoulder. "You see, Kimmie-cub? I even changed the color of your saddle and bags. You can still ride like a princess."

Kim frowned at the side saddle.

"Super."

RB!

"They're on their way." Mama King announced.

"Wha…" Drakken turned away from his discussion with the Head of the Interior Design Guild. The throne room swarmed with men striving to put things in order once again. "Did you have a vision, Mother?"

Shegoix stopped filing the claws on her gauntlets and shook her head. "Nah, she just knows Middletonian strategic doctrine. She's got some horse sense to go with the horse face."

"Why, Dearie, that was almost a compliment, thank you." The old fire witch sneered.

"You still owe me a new robe, you old hag."

Mama King smiled. "At least now I know what my Drewbie saw in you. And it's a good thing you shave…it would look like the Abyss yawning before your lovers otherwise."

Drakken and the others present gasped in fear. Shegoix's eyes burned at the old woman across from her. Mama King merely sniffed. "Don't get too stuck on yourself, missy. I had the look once."

She disappeared in a flash. Instead of a frumpy old woman Shegoix faced a short shapely beauty with rosy skin and hair like spun flames. A moment later it was Mama King again. "It just takes more to recapture it these days."

"My kind doesn't get old." The demigoddess boasted.

The retort came instantly. "Your kind doesn't get married either. Drewbie gave you a good roll or fifty but he needs a real Queen at his side. Guess she beats you there too."

Everyone took a step back. The blackened walls and shattered statuary offered no shelter or comfort. They could hear Shegoix's armor clank as she shook with rage. Sighs of relief rose when she extinguished the green fires around her hands.

"You're not worth it. Anybody needs me I'll be arranging the Reception Committee."

"She's just jealous of Kim. Who's to blame her? My Drewbie's such a prize!" Short, stubby yet dangerous fingers pinched a blue cheek. She walked away, leaving with an order to the Three Guild Masters.

"Make my statue bigger this time!"

"You heard her, people!" they shouted. Once Mama King left the room the blond Guild Master turned to her son.

"I'm telling you, Majesty. Put those two in an arena and charge admission. You could pay for all this and finance your wars."

"Nngh! Don't remind me." Drakken signed the work order and contracts. "I need everything ready in two days. How's it coming in the Royal Cathedral?"

"We're set. All we need are the flowers and the bride."

"Oh, she'll be there. And after the wedding the Queen's coronation will be held here." A chilling grin spread across his face. Drakken rubbed his hands together.

"I want everything to be perfect."

RB!

Across Middletonia the mood shifted from elation to terror. People no longer anticipated the coming fall of Uppertonia, they dreaded the Necromancer's return. Lurid tales of rapine and murder drove thousands before the approaching dust clouds and into the city walls.

Yet as always there were those unwilling or unable to flee before the coming storm. In the small village of Farafield twenty souls gathered at Abel's Tavern to await their fate.

Conveniently located off the Road of Kings the tavern was large and prosperous. This day the patrons sat in darkness listening to thousands of hooves pounding down the road toward them. Their hearts caught when the noise stopped.

Spurs jangled on the wooden walkway outside. Three figures came up to the swinging doors; blocking out the sun and hope. The lead one stood tall and lanky with his thumbs thrust into his sword belt. A broad brimmed hat shielded his eyes and a piece of hay protruded from his mouth; itself covered by a drooping moustache.

To his right a beautiful young woman gripped the sword hilt on her right hip. Somehow the child in the sling on her left hip made her appear even more dangerous. To his left a girl held a lance long enough to jab with and light enough to throw. From the look in her gray eyes she was ready to do either.

Whatever else he was, Abel was not a coward. He looked at each newcomer in turn before addressing the man in front. "What can I get you?"

Slim spoke around the straw. "Whiskey for my men…and beer for my horses."

RB!

Abel quickly went through his supply of potent potables. (The horses only got water, have you ever dealt with a drunken horse?) In return he netted enough silver for four years' supplies and taxes, even at King Drakken's ruinous rates. Farafield's denizens drank in the main room alongside the Free Riders. Upstairs Free Riders occupied every room. In a corner chamber the Head Honcho conferred with his officers, safe from peering eyes or curious ears.

Five people in Free Rider duds were actually outsiders. Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, and the Breeches Bandit Gang sat to the left of Slim. Ronman had taken his place behind her when Slim motioned for him to sit down.

"My men are guardin' us. You'll sit by Kim and talk iffen you got somethin' worth sayin'."

So Ronman and Kimila sat and played with Slim's new son Manfred. The boy giggled as they passed him back and forth. Each thought the other looked natural holding a child.

"All right, you two can get to foalin' later." The Head Honcho chuckled at the two faces turning beet red. "We've got to figure out our next move. Iffen we ride hard we can be outside Middletonia at dawn. Thing is, they know we're comin'. Ain't much chance of catchin' them with the gates open."

"I'd say 416 to one against." Everyone turned to Ruthless. The NSTMR shrugged. "Just a rough guess; if I knew more about the guards…"

"We get your point, no need to stick us in the eye with it." Another Free Rider grunted. "I say we ride through the night. Even if they're got the gate locked they might still run off when we get there."

"They won't run. But they won't pay attention to anything else either. It's our chance to get into the city." Kim's assessment drew nods from everyone.

The Alchemist spoke next. "Last time we climbed Bortelair's Tower. This time we come up from below. All kinds of tunnels run under Middletonia. The oldest are Boulderarian. They can take us right to his Tower, even the Palace!"

A plan began forming in Kim's mind. "Then that's the way we go. Where's the entrance, Wadelin?"

"In the foothills outside of town. We can make it in about three hour's ride."

"Sounds like we got ourselves a plan." Slim picked his hat off the table. "Tell everyone we ride in an hour."

RB!

By riding along a wide front the Free Riders guarded against ambush while hiding their own strength. It also allowed a group of riders to fall out unnoticed at a brush covered hillside.

Wadelin grinned when he saw the archway mostly buried in rubble and covered by brush. "Told you we'd find it."

"Just what was this for?" Kim asked while they readied their gear. The newly expanded BBG changed into their old outfits. Of course, Kim wore hers already beneath her riding duds. In seconds Kim Krimson was ready to return to Middletonia.

"Back in the day Old Boulder mined all sorts of minerals in the area. The tunnels under Middletonia were designed to facilitate air flow into the mines." The Alchemist noticed Joss watching him and stood a little taller.

Ronman puzzled. "So we're sneaking into Middletonia in…"

"A ventilation shaft." Kim answered.

"Okay, we've got her cleared." Slim walked away from the newly opened entrance. His expression darkened when divined Joss' intent.

"You ain't goin'."

"Paw, they need me!" Her cheeks colored. The fight both knew was coming had finally arrived.

"They got plenty for what they're doin'. And iffen you're not with me the bad guys might figure they need to look behind them."

"It ain't about that, Paw. I like Wadelin but we ain't lookin' to hitch up or nothin'. They need me…he needs me."

Slim's lips pursed together under his moustache. All his skills in roping and riding and fighting could not extricate him from this father's dilemma. Fortunately there was someone at his side to help him.

Slender hands rested on Joss' shoulders. Swanhilda used a low, conspiratorial tone. "If you go with him, he'll do anything to be a hero. If you stay with us, he'll do anything to return a hero."

The Free Rider girl nodded. Swanhilda made her tribal sign. She helped Joss when the girl had trouble returning the gesture.

"You'll pick it up fast."

Feet shuffled as two young people stood face to face. "Reckon I'll see you in the city."

Wadelin was equally pensive. "I reckon so."

Joss threw herself into Wadelin's arms, kissing both cheeks and his lips. "Get goin' then."

"We'll help." Kim and Ronman each took an arm and led the smitten Alchemist into the entrance.

"You kids be careful." Slim said.

"Have fun stormin' the Tower." Joss called; still thrilled with the effect she had on Wadelin.

Her father scoffed. "Tower? They'll go on to the Palace before they're done. I could see it in her eye."

"Can she do it?" Swanhilda wondered aloud. Slim had her answer.

"Honey, check my niece's name."

RB!

The BBG moved down the tunnel, Ruthless in the lead. At fifty feet the light from the surface failed. Wadelin snickered at the others fumbling for their torches. He reached into a bag and gave everyone a glass vial filled with a thick liquid. "Shake it up."

Greenish yellow light flooded the area. "Firefly essence. I figured out how to keep it going."

"Oops!" Ronman let his slip when it let up. The glass shattered against a wall. "My bad."

"Here you go." His experience with Ronman has led Wadelin to prepare extras.

"Thanks, dude. Wow, that's bright! How long will the glow last?"

"Exposed to the air, a few hours. In the tube it will glow for days."

"We don't have days!" Already in quest mode Kim had little patience for banter or clumsiness.

Felix looked at Moniquity. "Princess Tweaky?"

"Yep, that's her. Middletonia's least favorite royal. Though I wouldn't want to be down here with the Twevils."

The Red Kim need not have worried. Old Boulder's skills provided a wide, dry and amazingly safe path under the hills of Middletonia. Wadelin took the lead now, guiding them past other entrances. Only he could read the Boulderarian glyphs carved from crystal. At last he came up to the one he was looking for.

"This way! About a half mile down and we're there."

Soon Kim was wrinkling her nose. "Where are we? The air's changing."

"Just under the city sewers." Wadelin put away his light when he saw the sewer grate. "Ruthless, check out the sewer. Everybody put up your lights."

Tubes went under cover. The rear guard received a sharp look from Kim before she put away her light. "We're not playing 'candles out' Mon."

Moniquity and Felix exchanged glances, looked back at Kim and smiled wickedly.

Ruthless scurried up to the grate and pressed his face against the iron bars. Black eyes strained. "No lights coming."

Lights came back out. Kim whipped around to find Moniquity and Felix in the exact same pose as before darkness fell. Princess Tweaky shook her head vigorously and turned away.

"Let her imagine." Felix grinned.

Another glass contraption emerged from Wadelin's bag. This one was a tube with a needle on one end and a plunger on the other. "Everyone stand back from the grate."

The cast iron bolts bubbled and melted after exposure to the thick, pungent liquid. The Alchemist motioned to Ruthless when the hissing stopped. "Pull the grate out."

"You mean PUSH." The NSTMR chuckled. "Some genius."

Ruthless lifted the grate, set it aside and scrambled out. After the others entered the sewers it was put back in place.

"Hey, I know where we are." Ronman held up his light. "We can get into the Tower from that ladder."

"I thought you guys scaled Bortelair's Tower." Kim Krimson said.

Moniquity had the answer. "Know your escape routes. Girl, if you had waited a few more months, we could have stolen the kingdom back for you.

"Grace and beauty before everyone else." The Queen of Thieves ascended the ladder first.

The cellar grate had been loosened in the dry run months ago. Six warriors drew their weapons in Bortelair's Tower. Almost instantly they heard a lisping voice laden with resentment.

"That fool Bortelair! Wasting his time when there's a world to conquer! I'll have real women at my beck and call once I master the mystic power of the simulacra!"

They slipped around a corner of the wine racks. At the end a thin man with wild hair ranted to a cross between a bat and a spider. He fed it bits of crushed insects. Multiple gorges rose.

"Soon, my pet, soon. I will summon the gods of war and slaughter to lead an army of creatures the likes of which no one has ever seen! Then all will bow to the majesty that is Chester Yatsby! I will…"

"Tell me where to find Bortelair." Vivian gleamed just under the man's thin chin. Green eyes glittered in the baleful rune light.

"I, I can't do that!" Chester shrieked. His pet ran away at the sound. "Do you have any notion of how powerful Bortelair is? Once he destroys you he would track me down!"

"Maybe. But if you don't tell us he'll never find enough of you to thank for your loyalty." Chester was against the stone wall, Kim in his face. His breath appeared to mist until she drew back.

The Sorcerer's Apprentice whimpered. "The Special Room! He's in his Special Room!"

The original BBG immediately chanted in unison. "Third floor, west side, big silver door."

"What do we do about him?" Felix pointed at Chester.

"I'm out of my mold." Wadelin said.

"We're wasting time!" Kim snapped. The BBG started to say 'no' when they saw Vivian lift over head. Whack! The pommel struck Chest on the top of his head. He slid to the ground. The Warrior Princess stalked away from him. "Somebody tie him and gag him."

RB!

In general sorcerer's towers are not heavily populated. The only being they encountered up three flights of stairs was a zephyr busy dusting the artwork. It ignored them. Six reflections soon gazed at their reflections on a silver door.

"A new lock." Ruthless examined the demon face with a key hole in place of a mouth. Pink paws produced a set of lock picks. Wadelin stopped him before he could put the first one up to the door.

"It's a trap. Try to pick that lock and you'll be sprayed with molten silver." He unwrapped a block of clay and pushed some into the lock. "File, please."

He plunged the file into the clay and blew on it. A minute later he turned the file. There was a click.

"Your brothers helped me with this, Kim. The clay reads the tumblers and makes the necessary teeth for a key. It even learns and casts any opening spells. We call it 'Curious Clay."

Bortelair's door swung open noiselessly on well-oiled hinges. No one awaited them in the large room. Ronman, Ruthless and Wadelin moved easily across the cushioned floor. The others moved uncertainly on the strange surface. Kim stared at the heart shaped bed in the middle of the room, looked at Ronman and then quickly looked to the door on the far wall.

"We've got to get those two on the dueling ground." Moniquity shook her head.

"Someone's coming!" Kim hissed. "Hide!"

Kim jumped up, grabbed a set of hoops suspended from the ceiling and lifted herself into a hand stand. Moniquity left the ground to stand on a swing. Wadelin, Felix and Ruthless dove under the bed. That left Ronman alone exposed on the floor. He saw the large locked cabinet that had been their target the last time. A statue stood on either side holding a tray. _Hey…_

The far door opened. Cyrus Bortelair entered his most private sanctum. Soft robes replaced the usual sorcerer's garb. From her post Kim could see a gold chain holding a medallion. Luckily her jaw was set in concentration so she could not growl at the image of Drakken.

The little man threw a towel over Ronman's outstretched hands without looking. He made his way around Ronman to the cabinet's front and opened the door. Three shelves held cunningly worked statuettes of exotic gods and goddesses. He scratched his gray beard absently as he pondered and sang a little song.

"Tonight, I celebrate my love for me."

For all the blood rushing to her head Kim still managed to turn a little green. Moniquity gave her a teasing look. Both said nothing of course.

"Who to choose who to choose." The sorcerer muttered. Ronman kept his eyes straight ahead. Still his thief's senses could tell him that Kim and Moniquity were getting ready to spring their ambush. Suddenly Bortelair made his decision.

"Ah, let's be a little different tonight." Moniquity started her swing back to launch herself onto Bortelair when he grasped a statuette on the bottom row. His eyes blazed with concentration and suddenly his hand was empty.

Instead of a comely goddess a handsome god stretched powerful arms with a clatter of archaic armor. The square jaw dipped, perfect teeth sparkled. Then Ronman saw the eyes swimming in madness.

"Dash E'lan!" Ronman shrieked. "He'll kill every one of us!"

"What he said. Except for the red head up there." Bortelair smiled up over his shoulder. "Did you think I was blind? How much will I get for the Red Kim? I'm just a massacre away from finding out."

Ronman ducked under Dash E'lan's blow. The diamond bladed sword bit through the marble wall as though it were paper. He took off running with the God of Mindless Slaughter in hot pursuit.

The sorcerer whirled around and gestured at the bed. It collapsed before the BBG could emerge to help their leader. Sword arms swung blindly from under the heart shaped bed. Moniquity took her swing back and leapt out for Bortelair. The air flashed in front of her and Moniquity fell onto the bed; unable to do anything but breathe.

"Ooph!" Thick mattresses and bedding made Ruthless' voice even deeper.

Muscles screamed their relief when Kim let her body rotate down. She let go and the momentum carried her through the air. Ronman was on his second circuit around the room when he tripped. Dash E'lan pulled his sword back in triumph. Kim landed on the massive shoulders and pushed the helmet down over the baleful eyes. The god roared and stabbed over head. Kim had already jumped off, doing a backward summersault and landing on the cabinet. She saw Bortelair's hands and leapt before the paralyzing ray could strike.

She grabbed a suspended harness. _Go 'ick' over it later! Head in the Game! _Her flip ended in front of the shocked little man. A crimson gauntlet took hold of the gold chain and pulled. The links snapped.

The round bearded face blinked in surprise. "Your Highness?"

"Call him off, Bortelair."

"Of course, Highness." One moment a massive hand pinned Ronman to the wall while the other drew back in preparation for the coup de grace. The next Ronman slid down the wall alive while Bortelair held a statuette whose face now bore the unmistakable signs of frustrated blood lust.

"Free the others." Kim ordered.

The haze around Moniquity lifted and she sat up. A muffled voice protested. "Sorry, honey." She lifted the bed's side enough for Felix to pull himself out. "Usually you like me on top."

Ruthless threw the bed over, brushing the dust bunnies off. "Do you have a copy of Spicnspan, God of Obsessive Cleanliness?"

"Yes, no one STEALS those." Bortelair replied archly. "I presume your father knows you're running with a different crowd, Highness?"

"He sent us for you, sir." Kim held up the medallion. "We need to know about this."

She held it up for Bortelair, not willing to risk his touching it again. His face scrunched up as he examined it as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh, this is not good."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a memory charm of course; with the coin as the focus of the spell. The genius comes from the rings around it. The first one with the runes recasts the spell continuously. It allows him to maintain the spell with minimal effort. But this outer line is something I've never seen before. These glyphs of chaos…they allow him to alter the spell without having to recast it! That has always been the bane of large scale memory spells. He can change the memories of the subjects at will! If he had presented this to me at his final exam, he would be teaching at MESS today."

Kim scowled. "Instead he usurped the throne and started a war with Uppertonia. If we don't stop him, Middletonia will be destroyed. I've seen it."

"You've seen it?" Bortelair asked carefully.

"Every night for a year. Father sent us to see if there was a way to break the spell so we don't have to storm the city."

"Breaking the spell is not that difficult. There must be single focus point somewhere. All we have to do is find it and destroy it."

"So we go to the Palace?" Kim fingered her sword.

Moniquity knew that look. "Our quest was to find Bortelair and bring him to your Dad."

"Dad won't be here for at least another day. The attack on Uppertonia is imminent. There's no time to lose." Bortelair's obvious understanding made it easy for Kim to ask the next question. "Do you think it would be in the Palace?"

"It seems logical. Drakken most likely has it where he can watch it. There's no way he can hide the rings; that's how we identify our target."

"All right, we have a new quest…search and destroy. Wadelin, can we use those old tunnels to get below the Palace?"

Wadelin saluted. "Yes, Highness. The tunnels run under the whole city."

Kim gripped Vivian's hilt. Ronman would have sworn her face hardened as she fingered her weapon. "Then we have a new quest. We find and destroy the focal point of Drakken's spell. Once he loses his hold on the people, they'll turn on him. He doesn't have enough men to hold the city by force."

Ronman cleared his throat. "KK, your Dad's expecting us."

"I didn't know barbarians lost their nerve." She got into his face.

"I'm not." He could feel his teeth grinding together. "We just need to…"

"We NEED to break Drakken's spell. That's why Dad wanted Bortelair. We already know how to do it and Dad would send us to do it anyway. Now, are you with me, or do you want to go and tell him that I'm off saving the Kingdom alone?"

"I won't leave you alone, KK. Not now. Not ever." Not even Vivian's baleful voice in her head could keep those brown eyes from melting Kim's heart. She took his hands.

"Then let's move."

RB!

The tunnels somehow seemed darker than before. And the air was different as well. It held a whiff of decay. Every hand held a weapon, whether a blade or a wand or an Alchemist's strange concoction or a light. The BBG and Bortelair took additional courage from the auburn haired heroine leading the way.

Wadelin signaled for lights out. "Ruthless." The NSTMR again scurried through a grate into the darkness ahead.

"No one coming." He whispered back.

The Alchemist checked his prodigious memory. "All right. We're under the Palace but I don't know what this place was."

"I have an idea." Ronman said quietly, the light shaking in his hand.

They stood in the middle of a massive room. Their lights could not reach the walls or ceiling. That was not what had Ronman rattled. Just to his right was an ancient coffin resting on a stone block. It was one of scores all around them. "I don't like this."

His former pet teased. "Now, Ronman, we've been among the dead before. At least these aren't moving."

"They might not be, but something is." Moniquity pressed her back against Felix.

Grating sounds came from all around them, followed by crash after crash. Their greenish yellow lights illuminated sickly pale flesh. Thin faces turned to the light but their eyes absorbed rather than reflected. Instead of windows to the soul, these eyes were wells of unquenchable thirst.

"Isn't this what you call jinx?" Ronman growled at Ruthless. Without waiting for an answer he pulled a hatchet from his belt. It sailed through the air and into the strange robes of a shriveled woman. The weapon passed through her without leaving a trace.

Smiles revealed long fangs. One particularly tall man stepped forward and reached fearsome talons out to Kim. The Warrior Princess crouched, the runes on her sword glowing. The tall one grinned from a secret mirth. The joke was revealed when Ruthless charged him. His broad two-handed sword bounced harmlessly off withered skin.

Lungs unused for centuries forced stale air over a leather tongue but he had more weapons than long unheard words. He swung an open hand and Ruthless crashed against a stone. The BBG were down by one.

The Soul Sword spoke to Kim. _**He speaks Old Boulderarian. They've been buried here since before my time; cursed for their allegiance to the Gods of Chaos. He says their gods protect them from mortal weapons. Apparently you are all on the wine list.**_

_Shall we show him how you're so not the mortal weapon? _Kim's mental tone matched Vivian's almost perfectly.

The prey backed up to where they stood between Ruthless and the hissing throng that slowly came forward. The lead vampire reached for Kim; before she could react he pulled his hand back. He repeated the maneuver. Something like laughter issued from the parched throats behind him.

"Don't you know it's rude to play with your food?" Kim Krimson lunged forward. Her target spread his arms in an act of theatrical contempt. She returned the sentiment, twisting the blade so that she struck him with the flat rather than the edge. Inky eyes went wide when the blue light enveloped him. Dust fell to the floor.

"Who's next?" She kicked the dust in front of her. Thirst overcame shock and the undead attacked. Three more disintegrated from Vivian's touch. Ronman's rune sword threw one back, its clothes torn but otherwise unharmed. Both Felix and Moniquity saw their swords pass harmlessly through their targets and found themselves in the iron grips of the dead. Bortelair cringed; knowing his magic only worked on the living. Another vampire jumped onto the coffin and reached down to take Ruthless.

Wadelin pulled a globe out of his bag and smashed it onto the coffin. Light exploded outward, blinding everyone. "Don't move! You'll just hit each other!" He shouted.

It took a full minute for their eyes to recover. Now they could see the massive chamber with a ceiling almost a hundred feet high. At least a hundred coffins rested in neat rows. Around their position were at least a hundred piles of dust.

The Alchemist smiled as he explained. "Bottled sun light. If you go after grave mold you have to bring your own antidote."

Kim slid Vivian back into her scabbard. "You're amazing, Wadelin. Wait until Joss hears about all you've done today."

"You, you think she'll be impressed? I mean, I didn't fight anybody like you did."

"There's a lot more to victory than swinging a sword. Most battles are won by the mind." The Warrior Princess put a hand on the Alchemist's shoulder. "That victory was yours."

Everyone turned their attention to Ruthless. Ronman gently patted the rodent's cheeks. Ruthless opened his eyes groggily. "I'm awake."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" The Actuarian stuck out his hand.

"Three."

"Good. Who am I?"

"You're Ronman, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe."

Encouraged, Ronman asked a final question. "Who are you?"

Black eyes strained from concentration. "I am…Weasel?"

Kim stood up. "Ronman, you and Wadelin take care of Ruthless. I'll take Mon and Felix and Bortelair and scout ahead a bit. Come on, guys."

After what had happened neither of the three mentioned had any desire to hang around. They carefully skirted the ash heaps that Kim simply strode through. At the moment Kim felt no need for caution. When she came up to a double door at the far wall she kicked it open.

The next room was narrower but almost as tall. There was a walkway halfway down, with a figure standing in the near darkness. A voice dripping with sarcasm called down to them.

"Oh, goody, the exterminators are here. I could have gotten rid of them myself but something else always came up. You will clean up, right?"

Kim lifted her light and stepped forward. The shadow moved up with a slight clink. If she had not recognized the voice Kim might have taken the pale woman for another vampire. She did not know that Ronman nearly had once before himself.

"Shegoix!"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the EX-Princess." Shegoix's smirk could be seen even in the half dark. "Knew you'd come this way."

"How would you know?" Kim snapped.

"It's the sneaky way. Your kind never comes to the front door. Not that I would if I were you."

"And why not?"

"Look at what you're wearing, I mean, it doesn't leave much to the imagination. Not that anyone would wonder more than how you don't fall out of that top. Face it, Pumpkin, you're a little girl in a grown woman's outfit."

"Interesting comment coming from somebody covered from the neck down. That armor could hide a multitude of flaws."

The nemeses glared at each other. Shegoix stood alone. Kim was slightly ahead of her companions, and was soon joined by three more.

"Ruthless is okay, KK. We're…" Ronman pulled up short. "Shegoix?"

"Ronnie!" The sneering face went soft. Shegoix's smile reached into her eyes. "You're alive! All of you."

"What?" Kim gave Ronman a cold stare. "You know her?"

Laughter came down from the demigoddess. "Oh, we know each other all right. There was the laundry room. And in the bedroom there was the tub, and the chair, the bed a LOT of times and you can count the floor: one time we fell off the bed. He just kept on going. And he's a fast learner, too."

This time Ronman was certain he saw ice forming on Kim's face. "We hadn't met!"

"We'll talk about this later, Ronnie." Kim snarled while Vivian chuckled in her mind.

Moniquity came forward to face Shegoix with challenge in her voice. "You're saying you're the one who taught our boy here his…linguistic skills?"

Shegoix folded her arms and nodded.

The Queen of Thieves slipped her sword under one arm and brought her hands together. "Thank you, sister. Thank you!"

"Hey, I like to pay it forward." The pale woman smiled good-naturedly. She whipped out her sword, which like her hands lit up with green fire. "All right, ex-Princess, let's just make this you and me."

Another maddening voice from the past intruded on the scene. "Wouldn't that be elitist, Shegoix; when there are so many others wanting to join the dance?" Drakken stepped out onto the walkway. The war crown of Middletonia rested on his head. His armor (cherry!) glowed in the torchlight of the guards behind him. Dozens of men trotted out of entry ways on the ground to confront the Warrior Princess and the BBG.

"Good job, Shegoix. You will be richly rewarded."

Kim glanced up from the soldiers in front of her. "I guess we'll have to settle things in a minute, Shegoix. We've already faced barbarian hordes and vampires, this won't take long."

"You have no idea what you're up against, Kimila Possible. You think you're all that, but you're royally not! You face something you've never faced before." Drakken gloated.

"Yeah, a fate worse than death." Shegoix put away her sword and smirked at Drakken. "Much, much worse."

The Usurper winced. "You cut me to the quick with your words, Shegoix."

"Quick was the problem. That and you brought a dagger to a sword fight, so to speak."

"Nyagh! You know lack of support and nurturing is the main reason we aren't together any more. Now, let me handle this."

"All right, all right already." Go City's demigoddess held her palms outward. "It's all in your hands. Your tiny, tiny hands."

By now Drakken had had enough. He raised a fist and shouted his orders to the men below. "Remember, I want her alive! Do what you want with the others."

Kim watched the enemy advance. They wore black and red leather armor. Even their eyes were covered by yellow gauze over the eye slits of their helmets. Clearly these were not Middletonian soldiers. A cold smile spread on her face as she beckoned them to attack.

The lead soldier raised a mace and charged without a word. Quick as a flash Kim stepped into his attack. Vivian sheared through his armor, opening his guts and rib cage. Oversized organs tumbled out. The blood was mixed with vinegar.

"Golems…gross!"

The host came forward. Ronman and Ruthless shared a nod. "Shrom, the odds look good!" They charged, Felix and Moniquity right behind them.

Kim Krimson pushed ahead. Three golems tried to take her from her left only to be enshrouded by one of Wadelin's web bombs. A broad sweep by Kim decapitated two more, who rushed into a wall. Another came up and was cut straight through the middle.

Ronman blocked an ax with his sword. He had a second hatchet which he buried in the golem's mindless skull. Another golem's sword cut through the hatchet's shaft. The Actuarian gripped his sword with both hands and sliced through its shoulders.

Ruthless demonstrated his complete recovery by cutting the legs out from under opponent after opponent. Wadelin and Bortelair picked up discarded weapons and dispatched the NSTMR's victims.

Moniquity and Felix stood back to back in a sea of red. Arms and heads flew around them and the bodies piled up. But it seemed that for every one that fell five advanced to the attack. The Queen of Thieves did not look back as she fought. "If anything happens, Baby Boy…"

He nodded while taking out another. "I know, jinx."

Kim drove onward. She caught up a forearm still holding a sword. Goddess enhanced strength propelled both blades through another pair of enemies. Drakken's presence inspired her to fight on to the doorways the monsters came from. One had to lead to a flight of stairs. Her eyes had a berserker's gleam. "You can make a thousand of these, Drakken, but they won't stop me!"

"He doesn't have a thousand. Actually it's a lot harder to make us than you think." Kim turned to the voice coming out of the doorway. "We're all unique in some way."

The golem had the same armor as the others but no helmet. He shook his long brown hair; a smile graced his handsome tanned face. "For example, I'm a hottie.'

"Eric." Anger and humiliation welled up in Kim. Vivian flashed and she lunged. Eric twisted with serpentine grace to avoid the attack. He caught her follow up overhand blow with sword and dagger. His unnatural strength matched hers.

"I wish he had set me on you earlier." Eric gloated in her face while they strained against each other. "I bet I could have gotten into your skirts."

Kim gave a faint, tight smile. "In that case, you must have something down there."

Her knee drove into his crotch, lifting him off the ground. His eyes crossed and he sank to his knees.

"Well what do you know?" Kim raised her sword. "You're…"

"Hung like a horse." Eric gasped. He recovered far faster than any mortal man could have. A hand raised, its fingers extending toward her, outracing her stroke.

"KK, watch out!"

The Actuarian rune sword severed the digits which writhed on the ground. Ronman snarled at Eric. The golem's glove slipped off, revealing five shadow scorpions interlocked to form his hand. Kim's blow cut them in two.

The wounds would not have killed a normal man. Eric sprang to his feet. Another attacker caught his attention. He looked down to see a pair of saber tooth fangs embedded in his calf. Beady eyes looked up at him.

"You've got to be kidding me." Eric taunted.

"Made you look." Ruthless grinned.

"Wha…" The Golem 901 began to laugh; then he looked up.

"Oh, no!"

Kim brought her sword down on his head. Ronman made an uppercut starting at the crotch. Their blades met as they cut his jackal heart in twain.

The soft green eyes glowed as though a weight had been lifted from her soul. "Thanks, Ronnie, Ruthless."

Drakken responded from his vantage point with mock sorrow. "Kimila Possible, must you always break my toys? Play nice with the next one; he's a real collector's item."

Another entryway crumbled from a tremendous blow. The figure emerging was almost seven feet tall, but so broad that he looked shorter. Eyes glittered through the visor of his helmet. He lifted an enormous maul. "Heargh!"

Actuarian boy and rodent jumped to either side. Cracks appeared in the wall where the cast iron weapon smashed. The monster pulled the maul free, turning with amazing speed for his bulk. Vivian slid along the breast plate, showering sparks in her wake. Kim barely avoided a grab by a hand almost as broad as her chest.

_The next door! There are stairs past the next door! _Vivian's voice propelled Kim forward. The creature pivoted to follow her.

Meanwhile more golems poured out to attack the BBG. Ronman pointed his sword at them. "Help them, Ruthless. KK, I've got your back!"

His sword bounced off the creature's armored back. Ronman barely avoided the stroke that crashed into the wall just to the left of the first strike. More cracks appeared. It jerked the weapon free. When he moved for another strike, Ronman slipped on a stone and fell.

Kim looked from the doorway to see the creature raising its maul. "Ronnie!"

_Leave him! Vengeance is this way! It's so close!_

_But Ronnie's nearer and dearer. _The Warrior Princess thrust at her enemy. Again heavy armor turned her blade. He turned to face her. Kim brought her sword across his face. The visor flew off along with a spray of ivory. The upper part of the helmet slid back and off.

A brutish yet not unattractive face of yellowed ivory glared at her. Its hair was wire of some strange alloy. Where the ivory had fallen away Kim could see bright metal. It prepared to reach forward again. Kim's attack was faster. She lunged, intending to drive her blade up behind the chin when Vivian twisted in her hand. Her mental scream stunned the auburn haired fighter.

_OLIVER!!_

The Soul Sword drove in between the two gouges left by Oliver's maul. There was a flash and something like a clap of thunder. The wall cracked and buckled. Ronman picked himself up and dove forward, carrying himself and Kim past the cave in burying the metal giant. Great clouds of dust plunged them into darkness.

They separated as they rolled free of the danger. Kim stood up coughing. "Ronnie!"

"Over here." She saw him standing up, just before Shegoix came up to rap him smartly on the head with her pommel. He slumped back to the ground.

Dozens of real men in heavy armor stood in front of her. Four rows back Drakken postured. "So Kimila Possible, you're hopelessly outnumbered and your escape is cut off. Now will you do the honorable thing and surrender to your King?"

A green glowing sword rested on Ronman's neck. The runes on her blade were dark. Stress factures covered the upper third of her sword. _Vivian…_

There was no answer in her mind. _I can't get to Drakken with a broken sword. Even if I did they'd kill Ronnie. If I go after Shegoix first they'll take me from behind and still kill him. What choice do I have?_

"Well, I don't have all day!" Patience had never been on Drakken's short list of virtues.

"Promise me Ronman will live."

The familiar mocking voice sounded behind her. "He'll live, ex-Princess. I'll see to that."

Shegoix's words brought a measure of comfort. Kim stared Drakken in the eye. He pulled back slightly, bringing a smirk to her face.

Kim dropped her broken sword.


	23. Hour of the Drakken

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: CajunBear73, MrDrP, King in Yellow, JCS1966, Isamu, Sentinel103, BlueEyedBrigadier, screaming phoenix, Geodisic, Katumara, bigherb81, That Swedish Guy, whitem, soulman3, Michael Howard and everyone else brave enough to go down into the big bad dark.

Chapter 22: The Hour of the Drakken

**The strongest arms, the stoutest hearts, the sharpest minds and the keenest steel all have their limits. Some were learned under the Palace of Middletonia, others will now be tested.**

The rocks seemed to fall forever. They saw the great monster fall under a rain of boulders, and then the BBG had to run for their lives. When they finally stopped they were back in the crypt looking at a doorway blocked with massive stones.

Hairless arms strained to pull the boulders away. "Ronman! Princess!"

"Forget it. The entire passage must be blocked." Bortelair said quietly.

Ruthless would not give his friends up that easily. "No! The stones fell from the archway down to here! They're alive!"

Wadelin knelt beside the NSTMR. "We can't get to them from here. Kim's new mission failed. We need to complete the old one; we've got to get Bortelair to her Dad the King."

The whiskered face struggled not to cry. "But…"

"Wadelin's right." Moniquity dusted herself off. "If we can crack Drakken's spell we can still save them."

The little sorcerer smiled slightly. "King James was always a good student of magic. Between the two of us I'm sure we'll come up with something."

Felix kept looking around. "The light from your globe is fading, Wadelin. Are you sure those things will stay dead?"

"Sunlight destroys vampires forever." A subtle chill gnawed at Wadelin's confidence. "But the door over there has a warding spell. Only the living may go through it."

They made their way quickly. Each hoped the whispers they heard were just their imaginations.

RB!

Drakken's soldiers stepped up to Kim cautiously. She held out her hands for the manacles. They stopped when their master spoke up.

"Gentlemen, is that any way to treat a Princess?" King Drakken produced a length of silk rope. "Be sure to bind her hands and waist."

When they were finished Kim saw that Drakken held the other end of the rope. "I'll lead, my Sweet. With all the riding and walking in the dark and fighting, you must be exhausted. I'll show you to your room."

"A dungeon cell?" she asked sharply.

"For Kimila Possible? Indeed not! You'll have a proper bower with all the comforts of home. You'll need some rest. You have a very important meeting scheduled for the morning."

"Torture you mean." Her eyes flashed. The beautiful face was the picture of resolution.

Drakken searched for the right words. "This Inquisitor can be a little sharp but I promise: no thumb screws, no rack, no hot irons, nothing of the sort."

The blue skinned king began walking. Kim looked over her shoulder before the line drew taut. She wanted one last look at the boy on the floor. No one heard her whisper.

"Good bye, Ronnie."

RB!

Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe, opened his eyes slowly, hoping that no one noticed. Just to his left was a familiar pair of black and green sabot. _How can she make steel look sexy? _He heard a sword slip back into its scabbard.

Shegoix snapped an order. "Get a stretcher over here!"

Drakken was in Kim's face: there was an exchange and a soldier began binding his love. The Usurper walked away with one end of the rope in his hand. Ronman closed his eyes when she looked toward him. As badly as he wanted to see those soft green eyes it was vital that on one knew he was awake. His thieving skills had not deserted him. An item on the floor was slipped unnoticed into a secret pouch in his belt.

RB!

Go City's demigoddess watched King Drakken leave with his prize. She now turned her attention to hers. First she walked over to Kim's sword. Her glowing hand illuminated the cracks in the steel of the abandoned weapon.

"Broken." Shegoix gave her attention to the boy. "Where's that stretcher?"

Strong hands reached down and picked Ronman up. All the time the barbarian boy lay perfectly still. Before they started off Shegoix put an armored hand onto Ronman's temple. Her hand flashed green; a precaution to keep him safe.

"Once again, I get the better of the bargain."

RB!

The way back took the BBG no time. Old Boulder's tunnels were safe and clear and now familiar to them. The only thing slowing them down was a sorcerer who needed to catch his breath from time to time.

At the exit sat a pair of Honchos with their riders, singing songs to pass the time. They stopped when Ruthless emerged.

"Where's Slim?" Ronman's former pet asked breathlessly.

"At the city gates." Answered the first Honcho, whose slanted eyes revealed his mixed ancestry, older peoples still traveled the plains claimed by the Free Riders. "Ain't that right, Gene?"

The second Honcho nodded amiably. "Right, Roy. Word is his brother rode ahead of his army and is probably with him now. Reckon the rest of the family came with him."

Beady eyes glinted. "Good. We have Bortelair, but lost Kim and Ronman. We have to act fast."

Roy sighed. "Slim figured she'd up and play Free Rider. Come on, we'll take you to them."

RB!

Kim's room was cool and comfortable. She sat on the edge of the bed wearing a simple white bed gown. A lady in waiting sat across from her on a stool. The hated medallion hung from the girl's neck. Kim wanted to rip it off Marcella but her plan was far more subtle than igniting a palace revolt.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" the girl bubbled.

_We met six years ago. _Kim played the royal guest. "It's my pleasure."

"You're too kind. Now that we have out of that silly costume and into something sensible you need to get some rest. You've a big couple of days ahead!"

Kim spoke through a forced smile. "Tell me about it."

Marcella gasped. "I can't do that! Why…oh, that's a joke, silly me! I better let you get some sleep before I do blurt something out. His Majesty wants it to be one surprise after another! Good night."

The girl left. Kim lay back on the bed. It had been a long day. She was tired and needed to speak with Vivian. _If she's still here… _

Sleep came almost instantly. Moments later Kim was in the Dream World. Without opening her eyes she knew something was different. Softness enveloped her body. Cold air nipped at her face. She opened her eyes. Furs covered everything except her face and hands. The gauntlet covered hands lay across her chest. _I look like I'm laid out on a bier. All I need is my sword._

Mists bellowed all around her. At last they parted and Vivian stood before her. Kim sat up as Vivian floated over.

The ghost spoke without moving her lips. *_Keep the furs around you. It's cold here.*_

Kim drew the furs closer, aware that she was in her armor again. She looked at the walls around her. They were smooth and shiny. The ceiling above her met at an extremely sharp peak, as though built for heavy snows. Cold came in waves.

*_May I sit beside you?*_

Kim made room. "Sure, you want to share furs?"

*_No, thank you. I am beyond warmth.* _The Vivisectrix sat down slowly, unsteadily. Dark lines were under her eyes. Kim could see the cracks all over the pale face, like ice on a lake giving way under a great weight. Her chest did not heave. No breath misted in the chill air. Her face remained motionless. Still Vivian sighed.

*_I'm sorry, Kimila. I'm so sorry that I failed you.*_

"Where are we?" Kim asked.

*_In my sword.*_ Vivian looked up. *_They left it on the ground, thinking it a useless piece of broken steel. We Battle Maids have guarded our secrets well. They don't know that I am healing; that I can still aid you.*_

"What happened?"

*_The impossible! Well, obviously it was possible: everything vital was made of a platinum alloy impervious to rust and corrosion. I always thought he had vanished into the Sea with Old Boulder.*_

"Oliver." Kim nodded.

*_Yes. I told you only the gist of what happened to me. Now the story comes to stand before you._

_*I was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. If I had been a seventh son of a seventh son I would have been hailed as a future mage destined to sit on Boulder's Mystic Council. Being a daughter, I was taught love charms and menial hexes. The rest I learned on my own. Once I left school I did not even practice my craft. I left Boulder to oversee my family's mining interests. The last thing I wanted to do was to hear the pleas of the lovelorn when no one would knowingly court a witch.*_

Kim felt sympathy for Vivian for the first time. She understood what it was like to not fit in. Apparently some feelings transcended all times and places.

The ghost's eyes focused on an unseen past. *_I saw what mining did to the men and boys. Bodies broken, lives shortened. More care was lavished on the machines processing the ore than those mining it from the dark. That was when I decided that machines would be better suited than men to work beneath the earth. _

_*I learned everything about every machine. The gears, springs, cogs and pulleys and how they interacted. Once I knew all there was to know about the machines I studied men; miners at work, children at play, athletes in competition. I even studied art so I could look upon nude men without scandalizing the family.*_

"You told me you were cheated." Kim pulled the furs up to her eyes.

Vivian's stare grew even colder. New ice filled in some of the cracks. *_His name was Fen. He was a minor sorcerer employed by my family. From the first he encouraged me. He was a sounding board for my ideas and theories. We worked for years until at last we achieved complete success.*_

"The two of you created Oliver."

_*It was my work. He provided no more than a spell or two.* _Vivian closed her eyes for a moment. They opened with a crackle of ice. *_Miners are small, but we needed room to make it work. We could always build smaller later. Fen was especially good in assisting with Oliver's brain. Soon we had a machine that could walk and talk and act like a man!_

_*It was the happiest day of my life and I had someone to share it with! That night we celebrated, and I invited Fen to share my bed. He refused, saying that he wanted to go to Boulder to ask my family for my hand in marriage. I knew then that I was in love.*_

The Warrior Princess strained to picture Vivian's face alive and glowing with love.

_*You can't do it, can you?* _the ghost asked.

"Do what?"

*_See me in love. It's all right; someday a girl might not believe that you once knew love or happiness.* _Her smile was sad. *_We agreed he would go to Boulder while I ran the business. For a year we corresponded. He promised me that he would work things out, that I should let him handle it. After a year I could wait no longer. I went to Boulder. I wanted Fen. I wanted…babies._

_*When I arrived my family greeted me warmly. They assailed me with questions about Fen. I assumed he had talked with them so I told them all about our work together. That's when my father said I should feel honored to have assisted such a man at the moment of his great discovery.*_

Never would Kim have imagined Vivian capable of such a pained expression, and she had driven a sword into the woman's head. *_Somehow I did not tell them. I never gave them a chance to doubt me…or believe me. Instead I vowed to accuse Fen before the Mystic Council. But the next day I saw the carriage of a member. There was a woman at his side…a mechanical woman. He had spent the past months making sex toys for the Council! There would be no justice for me there.*_

"So you turned to Elisthar."

*_Yes. Strange how I found what I needed to do on a scroll. Her cult has never written anything down. And you found it too, did you not?*_

"In a scroll of advice on overcoming adversity." Despite cold Kim lifted her face to smile at Vivian. "Come to think of it, the hand writing was completely different."

*_I made my pact, took my soul sword, and set off into the wilds beyond Boulder. A weapon must be tempered before use. No one recognized me when I returned in two years. Fen's tower was easy to find. I had Oliver with me, the family never saw him, he was going to be a surprise. He smashed though the wall and destroyed the mechanical guards. I killed the living ones. His magical defenses were pathetic. Minutes after we started I found him hiding in his privy. He begged, he pleaded, he even told me he loved me! I earned my name that night. When I heard the City Guard coming up the stairs I finally cut his heart out and let him die.*_

She nodded to Kim. _*By the way, that was a nice job with Eric.*_

"It felt good." Kim said quietly.

*_I know what you mean.* _the ghost continued. _*The trial was held that very night. Necromancers called Fen's spirit. It screamed and cried at the sight of me. They never noticed how carefully it avoided their questions regarding our work. Then again, the Council had already determined that I had killed him out of frustrated desire._

_*The next morning they showed me what else he had made of our work: a mechanical wheel. For three days it slowly broke and twisted my limbs. On the fourth blades emerged from the spokes, slowly cutting into my flesh. Once the blood began to flow freely they finished me.*_

A mangled and mutilated corpse now sat beside Kim. The girl buried her face in the furs to stifle her scream. When she looked up again it was Vivian, whole and sad.

_*Generations were going to bless me for removing drudgery and danger from their lives. Instead my body was burned in five separate fires, the ashes were scattered in secret and my name stricken from my family's genealogy. But the final victory was mine! Elisthar promised me I would go on after Boulder. A Kraken now dwells in the chamber where I was condemned. Only sorcerers and wild barbarians now speak Boulderarian!*_

"But I want to save Middletonia." The Warrior Princess sighed.

_*And you will. Soon they will come for you. No doubt they plan to break you. Part of you is already tied to the sword. When they…begin on you, it can call the conscious part of your mind here. Whatever they may do to your body, your mind will remain intact. For now, rest, child. Sleep.*_

The warm furs beckoned Kim to lie down. They softened her stone bed. One thought crossed her mind as she left the Dream World to truly sleep.

_I wonder how Ronnie is doing?_

RB!

Ronman was having the most wonderful dream. Sheets fit for a king covered him. The pillow was as soft as a cloud, a perfect companion for the perfect bed. The last bit of perfection slid up behind him to press her naked body against his. A cool hand slid over his shoulders and down his chest. It lingered on his belly, fingers pointed tantalizingly downward.

_Hey! We won! This must be the victory celebration! _

_Yo, Conscious Mind, get a grip! Do you remember a duel? This is a dream._

_Hello, Sub-conscious, dreams don't fell like this. We must have gotten free and rescued her. And my plan worked! She's just getting ready to show her appreciation. _

_C-dude, dreams are from me, delusions are all yours. I don't remember any dream…_

_Then it's not a dream! So, let's just turn around, wrap this girl up in our arms, look into those green eyes and start up the lovin'!_

He turned over, his eyes still closed. A giggle made him smile. Firm breasts pressed against his chest. Perfumed hair brushed his shoulders. His eyes opened to take in the green eyes before him; gemlike, glittering eyes that while cold did not lack affection.

"Shegoix?" instinct kept him from bolting.

"Hiya, Ronnie." The demigoddess snuggled in even closer. "Welcome back to the land of the living." After a kiss she slid out of the bed and sauntered over to a wash basin. Her lovely body bent over far more than necessary.

"Enjoying the show?" Shegoix teased. "From your face I'd bet your ex-Princess Prim-and-Proper waits for night, pulls the shades, puts out the lights, lies back and thinks about Middletonia."

"Actually we, ah, haven't done it yet."

"So you two ride out to do a little sporting in the countryside?"

"No."

"Sneak into the broom closet and make out?"

"No, but she's a great kisser."

Shegoix scoffed. "Yeah, right. I bet she doesn't give you any tongue action." She turned to face Ronman, leaning against the wash basin. Her tongue played slowly over her lips.

Ronman gulped. A naked flirting demigoddess was indeed distracting. "Her kisses are Abyss hot! It's like locking lips with a succubus!"

"Whatever. Just remember, boy, women have two sets of lips and I can kiss with both."

She walked over to the tub, her eyes never leaving him. With a sigh she settled into the warm sudsy water.

"Come on in, the water's fine."

_Got to go along if I want to find Kim. _He started to stand. "But I'm naked."

"So? Your clothes were awful! They're being cleaned. Besides, I've seen, and sampled the merchandise. Don't be shy."

Ronman hurried over, aware of Shegoix's intense gaze. He sank into the water, watching her closely. "Now," she said leaning forward, "what do we do?"

The Actuarian's hand went to the back of his neck. "Uh, talk?"

"Okay." Her response surprised him. Shegoix sat back with her head over the side of the tub, stretching her back. The position accentuated the glories of her bosom. "It's nice when someone you find attractive, and finds you attractive, treats you like a person."

"You're a person all right." He agreed quickly. "So, what do you, ah, need me for? I mean, I was with the Red Kim."

"Before that you were Drakken's man and before that I hired you to steal and before then you were with Big Daddy Barbarian. You're a mercenary; you're all about the purse." She looked down at her body. "And don't I have a lovely purse, Ronman? One you'd love to filch again?"

The brainless part of Ronman stirred with eagerness. He was torn between calculation and horror. _You can't! You can't! You…must find Kim! If you refuse Shegoix she might kill her. Okay, you can do this, for Kim… _He started to move forward.

A delicate finger wagged in his face. "Nuh-uh-uh. No time to dilly-dally." Shegoix climbed out of the tub and ordered a towel to dry her off. Next her garments and armor put themselves on her body. Drakken's general and Kim's nemesis tossed her black hair and clapped her steel clad hands. Servants entered the room with clothes for Ronman.

The unexpected rejection had restored Ronman's control over his essential Ronmaness. Girls toweling him off left him unaffected. _Thank you, Chop Shop. _Moments later he stood dressed in the latest Go City fashion: tunic, breeches and boots of the finest leather, all dyed black and green.

"Here's your belt." Shegoix placed it around his waist, allowing her fingers to linger. "We'll have all the time in the world for that later. Right now I have a gift you can show off in public.'

The amulet looked nothing like the one Kim had ripped off of Bortelair. It was a Go City coin with Shegoix in profile on a throne with someone kneeling before her. No detail had been spared. _I can't see Kim but I remember her. It can't be a memory charm. _Seeing no other choice he let her put it over his head.

It reminded Ronman of going under water. Everything felt and sounded different. Even Shegoix had changed; from totally to divinely beautiful. Her eyes glowed and Ronman knew he would do anything, say anything, to keep that look on her face.

"That armor is very flattering, and you look beautiful in this light." He breathed.

"Thank you, Ronman." Shegoix reached behind the bed and pulled out Ronman's sword. "You can have this back now." He buckled it onto his belt while Shegoix spoke.

"We have an inspection to do before the King arrives with his fiancé."

"The King's getting married?" Ronman's voice was excited, but a part of his mind was screaming.

RB!

A knock at the door awoke Kim. It was Marcella. "Your Highness, it's time to get up."

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, sat up in her bed. Her mind had processed all the information she had gathered the night before. This was a minor guest room in the West Tower of the Palace. If it had had a window, she would have been looking out at the Royal Cathedral. _I would be staring at the second stained glass window from the right of the doors. _

"Enter." She called to the lady-in-waiting.

The girl entered carrying a pitcher and glass. "Good morning, Highness! I've brought you some milk. It's good for your smile."

"I was hoping for something a little more substantial." Kim took the glass. _A touch of cream, just the way I like it. At least some memories are intact. _

Marcella was already taking a dress out of a chest. "Breakfast is waiting for you. Now, let's get you dressed. Do you like this one? I was told blue is your favorite color."

"It's beautiful." Kim started to slip off her night gown. _This was what I wore the night of the cotillion. Somebody's really rubbing it in. _"But isn't it a little formal for breakfast?"

Her once friend, now servant helped her into the dress. "Not this breakfast! And you'll be a little whirl wind today. His Majesty wants you to look your best…you really need to make a good impression this morning."

She could not repress the sigh when she looked at herself in the mirror. _I wish Ronnie could see me in this. Or in no…he's seen you like that before, well, you kept everything covered, and the second time it was dark…Head in the game, Possible. _"I look beautiful, thanks, Marcella."

"You're welcome. Not that I had anything to do with it. Your escort is waiting."

Teeth ground together when she saw the dozen soldiers waiting for her. All were Middletonian. Drakken knew of her unwillingness to harm her own people and was now exploiting it. _When did he get so smart? _The men snapped to attention as she came out.

"Highness, please come with us."

Marcella gave her a hug but stayed behind. Kim walked down the familiar hallway surrounded by her honor guard. They left the West Tower, crossed the courtyard and entered the East Tower. Servants and members of the court bowed low as they passed by. Finally they stopped at the large doors of the suite reserved for the Queen Mother. It had been unoccupied for many years. _No one's used it in my lifetime. _ _As they say, Nana left the throne room feet first. _

The doors opened silently. A stout little woman with orange hair stood with her hands clasped in front of her. _I've seen that nose before._

"Oh, Sweetie!" short arms wrapped her up in a hug. Fine perfume could not entirely hide the whiff of brimstone. Small hands on her arms did not lack for strength. Finally the old woman pulled back. "Let me get a look at you. I have heard so much about you, dear. Don't worry, all of it's good, especially all the stuff about how you put that tramp Shegoix in her place. And now we get to talk, just us girls!"

Kim did not quite know what to say so she started with the obvious. "I'm Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia."

"Are you afraid I don't know that?" Her hostess teased. "Don't worry, Honey, there's NOTHING wrong with my memory. But come on, I bet you're hungry."

Whoever she was, the woman had no fear in turning her back on the Master of Sixteen Schools of Fencing. _Bet her only fear is silence. _Kim could hear Vivian snicker at reading her thought. They were in a small but comfortable room, the table loaded with choice foods. The old woman took a seat at one end and motioned for Kim to take the other chair. She hesitated, but obeyed when the chair pulled itself out for her.

"Now tuck in while the hot food's hot and the cold food's cold." Kim watched her hostess and followed her in her food selection. "Oh, come on, Sweetie, I'm not gonna poison you. You'll never be happy if you don't trust anyone."

"I don't exactly have reason to trust anyone here. No one remembers who I am. The last time I saw Captain Barkane he tried to kill me, and my lady-in-waiting doesn't remember that we've known each other for six years."

The old woman's face clouded for a moment. "Sometimes it's nice that people forget." Then she brightened up again. "But don't worry; people will remember your name. After all, it's just rude to forget your Queen."

Only a quick hand over her mouth prevented a major case of juice spewing. "QUEEN!?! But that would make Drakken my…" The color drained from her face and she pushed her plate away. "I just lost my appetite."

"I said EAT!" The grating voice rose, and then the sickly smile returned. "I'm sure your mother told you all the time about those poor peasant children that would have just loved your table scraps. She knew what she was talking about."

"What do you mean?" The red head asked darkly.

"Mothers always know. Right now I bet she's worried that you're not keeping your strength up."

Kim dipped a strawberry in fresh cream. Imagining the fruit to be the old woman's throat enabled her to bite into it with relish. The old woman smiled at the effect of her words.

"That's a good girl. A girl needs to know how to follow orders, whether she's a Warrior Princess or a Queen. And you'll be the perfect Warrior Queen for my little Drewbie. You're a smart girl, I know you figured out who I am the moment you saw me. Believe me, Sweetie, the resemblance is more than skin deep."

She rose. Fire flickered from her fingertips as she raised her hands. Kim grabbed a butter knife but found herself lifted into the air. The table top flipped and she was slammed onto its new surface. Straps secured themselves to her wrists and ankles. Drakken's mother walked around the table.

"Let's get this started. First we'll make sure you ain't damaged goods." Kim strained against her bonds while the old fire witch let her hands skim just above the girl's body, starting at the throat. She sniffed at Kim's reaction when they hovered above her womb. "What's the matter? You think any other Queen Mother wouldn't check? At least I don't have to peek or touch."

The fires faded somewhat and Mama King smiled. "Nothing! Most princesses these days at least get in a little groping before the big day. No boy's kissed you below the lips! That's the kind of girl my boy deserves."

Green eyes burned with indignation. "Marry Drakken? I'd sooner…"

"Die first?" Her hostess sneered. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna threaten that boy they brought in with you, or your family. And I'm not gonna be so crude as to give you a potion."

She held up a vial. "Don't think I can't brew one. This was supposed to be Eddie's reward for bringing you to us after wiping out your father's army. All he would've had to do is slip some into Shegoix's drink and say the magic word. She would have developed an itch that only he could scratch. Course you know what happened to that plan…you."

The pink liquid glowed in the light. "Pretty color isn't it? This one is low strength, not enough to affect your mind or loyalties, just your libido. To make it stronger you just add heat." Her right hand held the vial, the left fore finger lit up just under the glass. The liquid boiled and darkened until it was a deep red.

"Now I'll give it to Drewbie to use on her. One sip and the word and the tramp'll do anything he asks! She'll give him Go City on a platter and follow any order to the letter for the chance to have him having her. Now don't you worry, you'd still be Queen. She won't hurt you once he tells her not to. You two will be best girl friends. Knowing my Drewbie, I bet he'll let you two sport with each other as a warm up to servicing the royal scepter."

Dragon hide straps held firm against Kim's struggles, but the nails holding them to the table were beginning to come out of the wood. Mama King's eyes went wide and her free hand flared. Kim's back arched. She went rigid with pain.

"How'd you like that?" The evil face leered. "I see what my Drewbie likes about you. You got looks, strength and heart. We just need to get rid of the rest: that crippling sense of right and wrong, the loyalty to your family, and all the bad blood between you and your future husband. And of course we need to get rid of all those memories of that barbarian twerp. They've all got to go."

Another wave of pain swept over Kim. This time the old fire witch used both hands. The Warrior Princess gritted her teeth and called out with her mind.

_Vivian!_

_*I'm here!* _ghostly thoughts caressed her mind. *_I have you. She's trying to break you with pain. I'll draw you into the Sword a little at a time. That way she'll think her spell is working.*_

"Time to get a little more specific." The stubby fingers flexed and Kim experienced anew every pain of her childhood; all the falls, stubbed toes, bumps, bruises, cuts and burns of an adventurous little girl, down to the feeling of a lizard hanging from her lower lip. They seemed more intense the second time around.

Kim slumped on the table when she stopped. Her eyes were shut but she could see the old woman's face from within the Soul Sword. Vivian held her arm *_More pain is coming.*_

"How are we, Honey?" Mama King's question brought out a snarl. "Guess we need to step it up."

Mastering sixteen schools of fencing involves a lot of pain. Kim remembered the sore limbs and ribs, the sweat stinging the eyes and cuts. Her lungs burned and fatigue threatened to bury her. Screams fought to escape her lips.

"Not bad, not bad. You're a tough girl; let's see how much of a woman you are."

Now she felt every ache and pain of womanhood. When she reached what had to be the all-encompassing pain of childbirth her screams won free. Next Mama King dug into the realm of brutality. Kim's body felt every imaginable form of violence and violation. Nor did the fire witch limit herself to the merely physical. Slights, insults and spurnings carried their own sorts of pain. All those memories plus the sting of loneliness piled upon her.

"Break, you stupid girl! Break! Break! BREAK!"

Inside the Soul Sword Kim's mind held onto Vivian and screamed. Not even the deathly cold could keep the burning feeling entirely at bay. Fire appeared to race along the surface of the sword. Kim's pain was following her.

_*Hold on!* _Vivian held onto Kim while flames licked around them. Strangely the ice woman did not melt.

Kim's screams were mindless now; purely animal responses to unpleasant stimuli. Another minute or so and the girl would be reduced to a permanent catatonic state. Her work done, the old fire witch stopped. Flames died down. Where they had once burned they now soothed. When she was done the old woman undid the straps. She gently touched Kim's cheek.

"Wake up."

The eyes that opened were large, green and vacuous. "Hello. Who are you?"

"I'm the Queen Mother, but you can call me Mom. We were having breakfast when you fainted. Are you all right, Dear?"

"I, I think so." The girl replied slowly. "Are you my grandmother?"

"No, your family all died a year ago when the Necromancer tried to take over the Kingdom. My Drewbie saved your life and hid you away, just like in the stories. He's kept you safe and well treated. It's no wonder that you fell in love with him."

"I love him?" the girl asked intently.

"He's all you talk about. We were going over the plans for tomorrow's wedding. I guess you passed out from the excitement."

"Tomorrow?" hands clapped with glee. "There must be so much to plan! How will I…"

Mama King patted the girl's cheek. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Mother's thought of everything. Come on, I'll show you the decorations at the Cathedral."

"Oh, goody!" the red headed, empty headed princess jumped up. "Let's go!"

"Sure, Sweetie." Kim took Mama King's arm and prattled on as they walked. The older woman watched her companion closely, her sly mind at work.

_It took a lot to break you, but you shattered like an ancient Boulderarian vase. That's the problem with being tough, once you break it's all over. I can't find a bit of the old you in there._

RB!

Normally Shegoix hated sneaking around. It reminded her too much of her defeats at the hands of the ex-Princess. But it was important that no one knew she was here; that was why that idiot Camille had taken her place at Uppertonia. Besides, this time she had a companion. They inspected the defenses and watched the gathering enemy from a hidden passage within the city walls. Each observation niche had a pallet, but she avoided temptation.

Once they were finished assessing the situation Shegoix led them through a series of tunnels to the Cathedral. The BBG had never hit this treasure trove; that would have violated their code of not stealing what they could not readily carry or fence. Large statues of precious metals with jeweled eyes lined the central aisle. Some were of old monarchs, but most were in the likeness of the man who had saved Middletonia from chaos. Drakken's features were everywhere. A heroic nude in the central fountain made Shegoix chuckle.

"Everything's double life-sized…except for the royal scepter."

Dozens of workers ignored them. The Interior Design Guild was simultaneously the biggest collection of gossips and the best secret keepers in the city. Both came with the territory. Their leaders stood talking with the King.

"Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen." He turned to his lieutenant.

"Your Majesty." The green and black clad pair bowed.

"Ah, Shegoix. Glad to see your pet is on a leash. Be sure he doesn't make a mess."

"Don't worry, Majesty, he only misbehaves when told to. And this little doggie really gets me to howling."

Drakken's grimace made Ronman smile on the inside. The outside had no response. "Gnnah! Give us your report, General."

"We've got 37,000 men on the walls. Your mercenaries cover all the gates and sally ports. They've got maybe five thousand right now and another five thousand arriving tomorrow. We're safe from assault, but we don't have the provisions for a long siege. Even if they take Uppertonia tomorrow our army would need a week before they could start back."

"So you're saying we need help? Someone to pin them against the walls while we rain missiles down on them? The Southern Garrisons, perhaps?"

Sharp green eyes registered concern. "That opens us up to invasion by Lowertonia."

"Not if I've hired them myself." The King had one fist at his side while the other lifted in the air in a gesture of triumph. "You know how strapped for cash that kingdom is. Their army arrives with our garrisons in three days. Once they engage James we'll send out twenty thousand levies to attack his army in its rear. He'll be surrounded and outnumbered four to one. It'll be a massacre!"

"Yeah, of our levies."

"Oh, Shegoix, Shegoix, the Southern Garrisons number five thousand fully armed and trained men. Lowertonia has a much better army than its record indicates. The levies will simply be the last stone in the mausoleum doorway. Even if worse comes to worse we'll still have more men on the walls than they'd have on the ground and our own army would be on its way home. And don't forget, while untrained, our levies are fanatic in their devotion to their King and new Queen."

Another party came down from the altar area. An older red head and a young one were surrounded by a gaggle of girls. They practically vibrated with excitement. Shegoix rolled her eyes, Ronman just looked on.

Drakken reached out for Kim's hand. He kissed it. Kim's other hand went up to her chest and her eyes fluttered. The demigoddess gave a quick look over at Ronman. He did not (outwardly) share her expression of disgust.

"Always a pleasure, my Sweet." The blue skinned monarch said in his oiliest voice.

"Oh, Drakkie." Kim giggled. "Your mother says we have to wait another night before we con…"

"Now, dear. It's bad luck to talk about the wedding night. Don't you want to surprise me?" The Usurper held her hands in his, basking in his hour.

"Yesss." Her voice was sibilant and sexy.

Shegoix put a hand across her abdomen. "Whoa, easy stomach, easy."

Mama King broke things up. "All right, girls. We have flowers to pick out."

Girls curtsied as they slipped past the King. Kim let herself be pulled away but not before she gave the sign that meant 'messenger boy me' to Drakken.

Drakken looked ready to pop. Shegoix looked ready to hurl. Ronman just looked.

The King was immensely pleased with himself. "Nobody can cook a mind like Mother! Why don't you let her work her magic on your little barbarian? You'd never need that amulet again."

"No, thanks. I won't need it in a few days. And I want all of him…his big hands, big ears, big heart and big…" Her hands ran from point to point. Drakken interrupted before she could finish her tour.

"Fine, Shegoix. Go play with your toy! I expect you to be in position for the wedding."

"You've got it." After her bow she turned to Ronman, bringing her lips to his ear. "Now it's time to get you."

RB!

King James of Middletonia sighed at the chaos before him. Three times now the War Council had almost come to blows. Given the frayed tempers he doubted it would make it past a fourth eruption.

At that moment a young Honcho named Durango had the floor. "We've got to attack tonight! There's no moon and the sky's overcast. We'll have the gate opened before they know what hit them!"

"It won't work. They have braziers lighting up the gates." Dean, Head of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Clan, stood. "Underground is the only option. It got our…our first party all the way to the Palace. We could sneak the whole army in under the walls."

"It's too risky!" This time it was a Middletonian who spoke. Lord Harris tilted his helmet back. He never appeared in public with his head uncovered, leading to many whispered japes, but no one doubted the mind under his (bald!) plate. "They'll be watching after today. Three men can hold off a hundred at any sewer grate. As long as Drakken has Middletonia enchanted any attack would cause tremendous death and destruction."

"But we have to go NOW!" The NSTMR bellowed. When everyone looked to him he could only whisper. "They have them."

Several people winced. Slim's hand gripped his sword hilt. Felix and Moniquity held each other's hand. Joss caught Wadelin's eye from her seat. She gave him the Freehorde sign. He almost smiled.

Ann looked at James. "We haven't heard anything! No taunts, no demands. What if he doesn't want anything? We could wake up tomorrow to find them ha…"

Swanhilda stopped Ann's fearful speculations. "He won't hurt your girl. He's going to marry her."

"What, Swannie?" the shocked look on Slim's face mirrored the others.

"He had a deal with Eddie. We bring him Kim and he would give Eddie somebody called Shegoix."

"You could've told us sooner." Her new husband growled.

"I'm sorry, I thought it was a given; kill the enemy king and take his daughter. Drakken was real keen on the idea of taking her to his wedding bed."

Ann looked ready to throw up. James trembled with rage. The Acturaians and the BBG shared a worried glance. They all thought the same thought.

_In that case, Ronman is utterly expendable. _

"So he thinks a wedding would secure his throne?" Suddenly James' eyes lit up. "I know where the artifact is! Not just that, I know WHAT it is! Wadelin, can you get your gang into the Royal Cathedral?"

"In my sleep." The Alchemist drew himself up under Joss' approving stare.

"I'm going with them, Paw."

"What?" The Head Honcho found himself where he had been just the other day.

"They're down two people. I'm going. My cousin needs me!"

Swanhilda shrugged. "She's a Free Rider."

The moustache twitched. "Guess she is. You'll be careful."

"Course, Paw, Free Riders are reckless, not stupid."

Now people could see where Kim got some of her quest mode. King James quickly gave orders. "The BBG will leave tonight for the underneath of the Royal Cathedral after we tell them what they'll be going after. Lord Harris, you'll go back down the road and order the army to march through the night, I want them here by dawn! Bortelair, we need something to hold an unraveling spell for our strike force. Now we need a diversion, boys, this is just your sort of thing, any ideas?"

The Twevils had said nothing since they had learned of Kim's capture. Only the call to a War Council had drawn them from a shadowy tent. Their silence struck everyone as odd, but it was understandable, affection ran deep in the Possible household, even when it was seldom voiced.

Ann took a closer look at her sons. "Something's more wrong than usual." Before she could rise from her throne to go to them, the ground convulsed, throwing everyone off of their feet.

RB!

The tremors failed to reach the Dark Tower. Outside the main bed chamber a blond barbarian boy waited with all the good-humored patience of the mind controlled. Soon his compelled virtue was rewarded.

Shegoix the Sultry wore a satin gown of deep green with long black sleeves. Jade and onyx beads alternated on her choker. Emeralds glittered on a bracelet encircling her right wrist. But no gems could match the sparkle in her eyes. She put a finger to his lips.

"I want your honest opinion."

It felt like a veil was lifted from his eyes. "She-Shegoix? You're beautiful! What is that thing?"

"Oh, this?" The demigoddess smiled nostalgically; watching the amulet twirl. "It's a simple obedience charm. Mom used them on us. She said some days it was the only way to keep us from destroying Go City. As long as you wear it you'll do anything I say. Only way Drakken will let you run free, unless you want his Mother to get her twisted hand on you."

"Kim." Ronman said grimly. "He did that to her?"

"Witch burned her soul out. The Kimila you knew is gone. Nothing in there now but rainbows and bunnies and the desire to do Drakken like there's no tomorrow."

They both shuddered. Shegoix sighed. "She deserved better than that. I would have run her through with my sword, spitted her on a lance, or pulled a dagger across her throat. Her spirit would have remained her own until the moment it fled to Valhalla…where it would have had to tell anyone who asked that I had sent it there! Who needs the Abyss when you've got that?"

_I've lost Kim? _He could not hide the despair.

"All my little thingie does is make you do what you're told. As you know you remain aware of what's going on. If you want we'll avenge Kim some day. When the wars are over and the empire's ours we won't need her. She'll relax before she comes after us, and when she does we'll take out the old hag!"

"What about Drakken? Won't he be tweaked if we take out his mother?"

"Not as much as you might think. Still…" her eyes gleamed. "…an empire with no ruler, just waiting for a divine queen. Someone who could rule for centuries…with the right man at her side."

She held out a delicate hand. "Do we have a pact?"

He reached for her hand, kissing rather than shaking it. Pale cheeks reddened.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Starving."

"Come with me." Ronman took the proffered arm.

The servants had pitched a green and black pavilion at the top of the tower. A table with two chairs and candles stood in the center of the floor. Even a barbarian knows to help a lady with her seat.

As soon as Ronman sat down servants came up with chilled wine and fruits. Sunset bathed the rolling countryside.

"Not Go City, but it's not bad." Shegoix raised her glass. "And it's only the beginning. I promise you we'll rule every foot of ground either of us has ever walked on. When we're done the gods will beg us to accept deification!"

"Abooyah." Glasses clinked. More wine and food followed. As they ate Shegoix laid out her ambitions. Lands that Ronman had only dreamt of were slated for conquest. They were the plans of a military genius. Finally she looked up from her dessert. A finger lazily traced along the glass rim. Her look was sly.

"Do you know what I'm thinking?"

The Actuarian boy drew a blank. "That this will go straight to my hips and I'll never fit into a 'nymph' size again?"

"No, Silly." She laughed warmly.

"Yeah, who am I kidding? I could never wear a 'nymph' size."

Shegoix leaned forward. "I was thinking it's time to do a little evil."

"Do you mean take-over-the-kingdom evil or the Shegoix-goes-oh-ah evil?"

"The oh-ah evil." Drakken's general climbed onto the table and slinked toward him. Gravity added to the allure of her low cut dress.

"Eyes on the prize." He reached for her when she slid off the table laughing.

"This isn't the place, not tonight." Black sleeves wrapped up his mostly green one. They walked back down in silence. By the way the guards and servants acted Ronman knew this was something momentous.

The door opened to reveal candles and flowers everywhere. Shegoix made a motion like she was headed for the blinder on the other side of the bed when she stopped and reached up to the clasp on her right shoulder. Her dress fluttered to the floor.

Ronman opened his arms for the pale beauty with cool glittering eyes and a warm heart. He could feel her heart beat as she pressed up against him. The kiss was long and deep. When she pulled back she was the one gasping for air. Fingers trembled as they touched his face.

_Her eyes. I bet Kim's were like that the night in the Red Tent. _

For once her voice lacked its usual self-assurance. "I know you're wondering why I've waited, why I've gone through the wooing when I hate it myself. It goes back to who I am…to what I am. I told you about Mom and Dad. Well, whenever a god sleeps with a mortal, she gets pregnant. When a goddess sleeps with a mortal she only gets pregnant if she wants to. As for demigods, they never get a girl pregnant unless they want it. But a demigoddess, she'll get pregnant the first time she does it with someone she loves."

Ronman looked stunned.

"Yeah, who'd have thought it?" The beautiful face glowed. "You have Solome to thank for me realizing how I felt. Not many women have what it takes to get Solome to open the door to the Dream World and call forth their dream lover. I do. The first time it was just your face and…the part of you that's most man. Every time after that it was more and more you. Now it's all you."

"Solome? Oh, wait, that's the one Moniquity likes…liked to tease Kim about."

"You loved her." Shegoix said without a trace of jealousy or anger. "All the more reason to help me take out Mama King when the time comes. But for now, do you think you could love someone else?"

In response Ronman lifted Shegoix and carried her to the bed. She drew him down to her before he could begin to undress. Her ecstasy grew with each kiss that trailed down her quivering body. The boy fumbled with his belt.

"Let me." She hooked her fingers behind the buckle. Suddenly the light went out of her eyes and her pupils dilated. Limp hands fell back onto the bed.

_Good going, Mom. _Ronman removed the belt cautiously and turned it upside down. The withered shadow scorpion stinger fell out, its poison sac now empty. Wadelin had gone over the venom's effects in great detail; Shegoix was in a dream state guided by her last conscious thoughts. A tiny smile crossed her face and she sighed.

"You're lucky. Kim was thinking about defeat and betrayal."

From what Wadelin had told him he had hours until she woke up. Not enough time to go to the Palace, much less fight their way out of the city, not that Kim would leave._ If I could get her to recognize me. She didn't even blink in the Cathedral. _But what could he do besides not betray her with Shegoix that night?

An idea came to him. Maybe a long shot but if what little he knew about enchanted items was right. He opened a second secret compartment of his belt. This one held a small file. Ronman worked as quickly as the situation allowed.

RB!

"All hail King Drakken!"

The blue face wore a grin from ear to ear. Wine poured in massive quantities. Lords toasted their King again and again. Costly gifts threatened to collapse the massive table. Musicians waited for their next cue.

Tonight Lord Kramer's dullest stories could not faze the King. And Lord Cook, while still a know-it-all, had kept his information in the gutter as befitted the night. Lord Kramer raised his glass.

"And now a gift suited for our King's last night as ruler. To the hour of the Drakken!"

Drakken squealed in delight as the enormous cake was wheeled in. Drums rolled, heightening his anticipation. His heart leapt when the horns blared.

Something else leapt up when the top of the cake exploded. The girl was as beautiful as her eyes were cruel. Drunken men cheered when she threw her arms overhead. The sugar pasties stood out against the deeply tanned skin. They would not last long.

Lord Cook slurred. "You know, Majesty, the cake girl originally was the third course in a cannibal victory feast. Only then it wasn't a cake but a…"

"Oh, shut up!" Drakken snapped. The Lord's immediate silence was as powerful an aphrodisiac as the girl's clearly fake smile. Her aqua eyes flashed in disbelief.

_This should so NOT be happening to me! Lonya married off, Conya sent to the Temple of the Pacifica, and I get sold to Brother Lust's Traveling Salivation Show! This is…is…outlet slavery! If I ever get my hands on that Ronman! That stupid, scrawny…hot hot HOT little boy! I've been such a bad girl lately, and I'm about to get worse._

RB!

Another party had already ended. The last giggling girl left Kim and her Mother-in-law to be alone. They sat looking at the bridal dress.

"It's so beautiful." Kim said in hushed tones. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world!"

"No, I am. I already have the best son and soon I'll have a daughter." Mama King produced a small vial containing another potion, this one clear except for the pink and blue sparkles swirling within. "Take this just before Drewbie enters the bridal chamber. It'll guarantee the arrow hits the target. You can't start too early with the grandkids."

"But, Mother. Drakkie's a boy, I'm a girl, why not let nature take its course?"

"Honey, I didn't get to where I am today by letting anything just take its course. Be a good girl and drink it before he comes in. You can't take a potion when somebody's busy pulling your gown over your head."

"Oh, Mother." The girl blushed and smiled. "I won't let you down."

"Your mother would be so proud. I'm gonna let you get some sleep. Sweet dreams. Tomorrow's your big day."

The vacuous smile followed the old woman to the door. It remained on the Princess' face when she crossed the room to sit at her dresser. She hummed as she pulled the brush through her hair. With each pull her grip tightened, changing from a hold on a brush handle to the grip one would use on a sword.

When she set the brush down her eyes were different. Sharp green eyes looked back at the grim face. Then the reflection changed again, and Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, sat looking at Vivian the Vivisectrix.

The Ghost was fully restored. Blue mists rose from the hand that touched the mirror. Kim reached out to touch the frosted glass surface.

*_Sword Sister. I am ready, are you?*_

"I am." Kim replied softly, careful lest the guards outside were listening. "But tell me one thing."

*_Anything, Sword Sister.*_

"Did I ever have a chance?"

The colorless head shook slowly. *_I'm sure you've realized by now, you did not happen to come across instructions on how to summon Elisthar. She is not found. She seeks. And she has three criteria: the cause must be just, it must be hopeless without her help and there must be more at stake than you can possibly imagine.* _

.

"My family and city are doomed! What more can be at stake?"

Vivian faded from view. In her place was the ruined Middletonia of Kim's recurring nightmare. Finally she saw the men who had stalked her dreams since the night at the burial mound. The first man walking out from the smoke was Rhodiganian, but his were the tattered clothes and tarnished armor of a renegade. Behind him were two men from the wild tribes to the north. More savages were taking away booty and firing any standing building. Only Middletonia's girls had been spared, but not out of pity.

_*Unless we finish Drakken he will rally the people behind him. Within days he will have Uppertonia and already he moves to bring Lowertonia under his banner. Commanding such resources and with a demigoddess to lead his armies, he will fight Rhodigan and Go City to a bloody standstill. Then barbarian hordes will fall upon the exhausted combatants like predators attacking a pair of stags who've locked horns. Every city west of the Crystalline Sea and north of the Red Desert will fall. The Dark Age will last a thousand years.*_

"Unless I stop him." Kim said grimly. "I never should have taken him so lightly! How did he know how that he could use Oliver against you?"

_*He somehow learned my name. His lieutenant must have given him a description of me after one of our encounters. Then it was a matter of research. Do not worry; he is not aware of our bond. And we are stronger than ever, Sword Sister. You now can call upon all of my powers. We are forged in pain: and the pain that forged you has healed me. I will come to you when the time is right.*_

"But I'll never be able to get to him. He's at war; he'll have an army at the Cathedral."

_*And I cannot strike him down for you. It is not permitted. But I think you know that you could not surrender as you did, and certainly not to him. I'm sorry, Kimila.*_

Again Kim felt a new closeness to Vivian. "It's all right. I put myself into this mess. It's just…just…oh, Ronnie!"

Tears welled up in her eyes but never made it down her cheeks. Slowly she reached up and brushed away the salty ice crystals. "Tomorrow, then."

*_Yes, tomorrow. It has been an honor to serve you, Sword Sister. And I will do my duty. Hold him close to you when the time comes. I promise: I will pierce his heart before you realize that I've already pierced yours._


	24. Burning in My Soul

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: MrDrP, Katsumara, Isamu, bigherb81, aedan cameron, Sentinel103, JCA1966, airwalker999, CajunBear73, Michael Howard, Jason Barnett, screaming phoenix, King in Yellow, soulman3, BlueEyedBrigadier and all the rest. Don't lose hope yet.

Chapter 23: Burning in My Soul

James Possible, the true King of Middletonia, pulled himself up from the ground and stood by his toppled throne. He glared at the Twevils, who alone had kept their footing. "Boys…"

A lesser tremor shook the earth. This time it affected the twins. They faded, leaving two tiny creatures which flew away on leathery wings.

"Homunculi! I should have known." Bortelair shook his head. "How many times have students tried to fool me with those things?"

"Where are my boys?" Ann cried. She and Swanhilda were pulling their bows and quivers out from under their own overturned thrones.

"There, I reckon." Everyone followed Slim's finger. The air around the Twevils' tent was midnight black. Ghastly red light spilled out of the flap. Three sorcerers, an alchemist, two queens, two clan heads and the BBG all raced over, compelled by the sound of two boys first casting spells, then cursing and finally screaming.

James was the first to enter. Outside the tent was no larger than a standard ten-man legionary shelter. The interior however was cavernous. Potent glyphs and runes created the spatial anomaly. They were also the only thing keeping the leather from bursting into flames.

In the center of the floor was an elaborate pentagram. At a glance James could tell it was perfect. That was no comfort to him or to his sons. His two precious boys now dangled helplessly high above the ground.

Massive hands held them tight, bringing them up to a leering bat-like face. Its breath roared like a furnace. The voice was felt as much as it was heard. "Hohoho! Brave little anglers! Next time make sure your net is strong enough for the fish!"

Six glowing hands raised ready. In response the demon held a boy against either craggy cheek. "Willing to risk a little collateral damage?" It smiled a terrible smile when the hands went down.

Mr. Royal P used his most imperious voice. "Unhand them, demon!"

"Demon." The horrible head tilted to one side. "That's what I am, but not who I am. They could tell you, but only if I let them. Can't have you using my name against me."

The great hands loosened ever so slightly. Groans came from the pale faces. Tim gasped. "We're sorry, Dad."

"Kim needs help now." Jim coughed.

The King's eyes watered. He admonished them gently. "Boys, how many times have I told you?"

"Don't summon what you can't control." They sighed.

Bill hooks pulled back the scorching tent flaps. Ruthless led the BBG charge. "Shrom, the odds look…Flickerfoot?"

The demon grinned. "Ruthless! This is the second time I've caught sorcerers with you around. You must be my good luck charm."

The NSTMR shifted uneasily under multiple gazes. "Uh, Flickerfoot. You caught so many just a short time ago. Couldn't you throw these two small fry back? They are awfully young."

"Aye, young and full of magic and mischief. They're perfect. You can tell their father what awaits them. It may make him feel better."

Just then an arrow whistled over the demon's head. Baleful eyes glared, his growl shook the floor. The display did not affect the archer.

"I don't want to feel better. I WANT MY SONS!" Ann notched another arrow. Barbara and Swanhilda stood on either side of her with bows drawn. Joss readied to throw her lance.

Flickerfoot peered down. His face softened, breaking out into an eager smile. "Ann? Wild Ann?"

"Who wants to know?" she asked.

He squealed, or least as nearly as was possible for his kind. "It is you! I'd recognize that heckler-slaying glare in the darkest depths of the Abyss! I know you must hear this all the time but I…I'm your biggest fan!"

She lowered her bow and looked up and down. "You are my biggest fan…by at least thirty feet. Now, if you're such an admirer, why not make me happy. Let my boys go?"

The puppy dog pout worked where spells and arrow proved useless. "You've got it." He carefully set the twins down. James caught Tim and Slim held Jim. Wadelin hustled to mix an elixir.

Ann rushed over to her boys, hugging and kissing and crying. "You brave, wonderful, stupid boys, don't you ever do anything like that again!"

"But, Mom, Kim needs help." Jim perked up after a sip of Wadelin's tonic.

Tim continued Jim's line of thought. "It would take ten days to build a tower big enough and strong enough to force open the main gate."

"And it's elemental proof. But a demon could blast it to slag." Jim's color had returned. "We had everything ready and sent the homunculi to the War Council. When we learned about Drakken's plan we knew we had to act."

They looked from one parent to another. "Sorry we goofed."

Their father shook his head. "You did everything right, he was just too powerful for you."

"But it didn't help!" they sighed. "And without help Kim's doomed."

"She's got help." Barbara said simply.

Dean nodded. "Actuaria stands ready."

"So do the Free Riders." Slim affirmed.

"And you have the Breeches Bandit Gang." Moniquity declared proudly. "And our main man and founder is already inside. I bet he's making all kinds of mischief right now."

RB!

Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan and the Fearless Ferret Tribe, looked over his work. _Should be enough when the time comes, but you can't see it unless you're looking for it. _

His exertions had left him covered in a light layer of perspiration. _Another favor from Shrom. _Slipping over, he doffed his clothes and slid into Shegoix's bed.

The demigoddess lay on her back. Her perfect body tensed for a long count, and then she relaxed with a deep sigh. She rolled over to face the other wall. Ronman moved up behind her and draped an arm over her. He could not help but be moved by the warm, soft flesh.

"Still want more?" she mumbled happily in her sleep. "Let's skip the scaling and get to the ramming." Ronman gasped when she lifted her long leg, rested it upon his and began moving her buttocks against him, making love in her dreams. Soon her breathing grew rapid. He watched her raise her glowing hand toward the mirrored ceiling. At the moment of climax a bolt struck the enchanted glass, its magic absorbing the energy.

Smooth shoulders shook with her chuckles. "Mmmmm, better every time. Now, go to sleep. Big day coming."

In moments her breathing was regular. Ronman held onto her. She was beautiful, smart, strong and ruthless. In another place and time he could have been happy with her: loving and conquering. And if his plan worked…

_Sorry, Shegoix. You deserve better than this. So did Kim. Drakken may have destroyed her mind, but he won't get her body! Tomorrow at the wedding he'll pay, by Shrom's steel hand he'll pay!_

RB!

Kim slept in her bower. She was on her back, her arms at her chest. Her face was calm, beyond hurt or fear. It was an overcast, moonless night. No one saw the frost glitter in the room, covering the walls, furnishings and occupant.

RB!

Preparations resumed in the Twevils' tent. In one corner sorcerers and alchemist worked. In another the latest edition of the BBG readied themselves for their mission. While Ann desperately wanted to join either group she stayed where she was. After all, a forty foot tall demon, unbound by pentagram or power word, required her undivided attention.

His story brought an unbelieving gasp from Swanhilda. "She did that for how long?"

"A full verse and chorus. Four men's jaws came out of socket from gaping at her. I never saw anything like it before or since."

"So you were there?" Ann felt flattered, and a bit creeped out.

"Remember the creaky old man who always sat at the fourth table on the left and tossed you coppers?"

"That was you?"

"Actually that was Pinch Pennington the Slumlord. I possessed him. His soul was already three quarters eaten up by then, plenty of room for me. You gave him his only decent memories in the last years of that damnable life."

"What brought you to her?" Barbara wanted to know.

"I've always loved dance in all its forms. Got a little place in the Abyss. Well, her mother-in-law hanged a thief once. He came into my place one night, watched the Double Damned Dancers do their thing, sniffed and said he'd seen better. Wouldn't retract his statement even under torment. Naturally I had to see what all the fuss was about. Caught our girl here for the second show. Never missed a night after that."

"Got it!" Wadelin's triumphant voice got everyone's attention. The genius from the Far South came over, followed by the sorcerers. "Took a while but with the Bortelair's help we've figured it out."

He looked over the other members of the BBG. "When we get to our target we smash this jar against it. It will break the spell and restore everything in the city to the way it was."

"Just remember, the target has to be out of position or it won't work." James reminded Wadelin.

"Don't worry, Your Majesty. The Breeches Bandit Gang has never failed a job." Ruthless said proudly. "What kind of security can we expect?"

The King put a finger to his jaw. "The Cathedral seats five thousand and it will be filled to capacity for a….travesty like this. That still leaves room for five hundred men along the walls, plus a few more on the walkways and alcoves."

"So at least five hundred men, what about the guests?" Ruthless ruminated. "Will they be armed?"

"Given that it's a state of war, the Court definitely will. The same goes for all officials from the surrounding towns and villages. Now as to the members of Parliament…"

"The members of what?" Felix asked.

"Sorry, I forgot." James waxed pedantic. "It's a deliberative body first convened 157 years ago to raise taxes for the Great Uppertonian War. The nobility, free holders, towns, temples and guilds all send representatives to advise the monarch on the issues of the day. Mother called them a confounded nuisance but I found them very useful. They were another thing Drakken made the kingdom forget."

"So they aren't there." Felix tried to hide his aggravation at the useless information. "Ruthless, if even a fifth of the guests are armed, that's three hundred to one odds. And I'm sure Drakken will have more of his own men outside the Cathedral."

The Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat sighed. "Those are hopeless odds. If it were an execution we were trying to stop I'd say 'let's all go down together' but we need to empty the Cathedral."

Everyone knew the answer; out of politeness they allowed the King to say it. "We have to force the gate. Once we're in the city Drakken will send as many men as he can into the streets to stop our advance. The question is, can we do it without a bloodbath or worse, a catastrophic repulse?"

Slim's moustache moved from side to side. "Gate'll be held by Drakken's men. Two hundred men can stand on the walls and towers of the gate's fortress. Know you don't care how many of them you'd have to kill, but we'll lose a lot of men taking that."

"And that won't be all." James was grim. "You know he'll have sorcery guarding it too. We've tried to avoid killing our own people, but there appears to be no option now."

James' old teacher looked thoughtful. "Perhaps there is, Majesty. You know every sorcerer of Middletonia quite well. They all have medallions like I did. Under extreme emotional duress the spell may be weakened to the point of extinction. A full blown assault on the gate may provide what we need."

"Especially if we lead the assault ourselves." Never before had James looked more kingly. Ann was torn between pride and fear. She spoke up.

"Wait. There may be another way. Bortelair, am I to understand that the key here is emotional duress? Does it have to be fear and anger?"

The little man shook his head. "No, any powerful emotion could do it. Fear and anger are simply the most obvious. It could also be joy or amusement or lust…"

Ann's ears perked up at the last word. "Lust?"

Her husband caught the gleam in those clear blue eyes. "Oh, no. Honey, we forbid it. WE FORBID IT!"

Queen went nose to nose with her King. "You forbid, you FORBID? This is our daughter's life we're talking about here! If you think she'll just marry Drakken peaceably then you took a blow to the head that nobody saw. And let's not forget all the others who'll die if we charge the gates. You know who he'll have defending them. How many people do you want to see reduced to ashes or pounded into pulp until we kill those two?"

Royal shoulders slumped. To be King is to see things as they are, not as you wish them to be. "You're right, dear. It's just…"

"What, were we that bad the other night? Have we lost our touch?"

"No! You were wonderful! And you're right of course, they must be neutralized. It was that we just hoped you would remain our…my private dancer."

Tenderness returned to her voice. "I'll always be yours, James. This is for our daughter and the boy she loves."

"For love then." Mr. Royal P kissed Mrs. Royal P. "What do we need?"

The Queen took command. "Barbara, you're a smith. Can you help me with some alterations to my armor? I need someone who won't get distracted."

"I'm ready." Actuaria's finest smith nodded.

Next Ann turned to her brother-in-law. "Slim, I'll need your sewing kit. You have the leather tools with it?"

"You know I do, Annie." The Head Honcho nodded to Joss. "Go get the kit for your Aunt."

"You got it, Paw. C'mon, Wadelin." The two took off.

James cleared his thought. "Uh, Honey, this isn't an objection, but there are issues beyond costume. You need to get close enough to the wall without getting killed. Even if you do that you'd need a stage and well, a military band isn't exactly the type of accompaniment you'd want."

"Excuse me." A certain hairless rodent and part time producer raised a paw. "I think we can handle that." Ruthless turned to the massive figure in the center of the tent.

"Flickerbaby, up to putting on a show topside?"

"For a chance of working with Wild Ann…are you kidding?" Flickerfoot brought his hands together for a thunderous clap. "I do have a request, though."

Ann and Ruthless huddled around him. The demon spoke in a hushed voice. When he finished the two mortals looked at each other.

"Well?" Ruthless asked.

"If he can I can." She replied.

Ruthless held out his paw to the demon. "Deal!"

"I'll get my crew ready." Flickerfoot gave James a not-so-evil-eye. "Now, as to the venue. Majesty, talk with my Business Manager."

A portal opened. The massive demon disappeared, replaced by an imp. Its red skin was offset by canny yellow eyes. The van dyke concealed the lack of a chin. It stopped in mid-flight to point a finger at Ruthless.

"Hiya, Ruthless."

Beady eyes blinked. "Frugal Lucre? Look, I'm sorry about Uppertonia. I honestly had no intention of killing you so long as you cooperated."

"You say tomato I say ker-splato. Forget about it." Little fangs gleamed. "Gotta fly, there's money to be made."

King James stared doubtfully at the fluttering creature before him. "You're Flickerfoot's business manager?"

"Frugal Lucre, former Smartyan, now Captain of the Adult Entertainment Industry of the Abyss. Let me see if I've got this right; you need an elevated, mobile stage with shielding against elemental magic?"

"Don't forget missiles." James added. "The spells get all the attention, but the arrows make most of the kills."

"Way ahead of you, Majesty." A wisp of smoke turned into a drawing. "Got it all right here. Just give the word and my boys will get on it."

Royal brows rose. "Your boys? I've dealt with outland guilds before. This is a ten day job we need done tonight, not the other way around."

"Majesty, we aren't that kind of guild. We'll get it done tonight, we'll just charge for ten days, plus a surcharge for a rush job."

"Surcharge?" James bridled.

"Hey, everything will be within specs and up to code. I mean, it's for a good cause isn't it? What's a little money when it's for the women in your life? Don't they deserve the best?"

"Let me see the contract." Mr. Royal P sighed. Lucre's smile widened when the King signed. Moments later the sounds of furious carpentry work filtered into the tent.

The imp rolled up the contract, which vanished in a flash of flame. "You won't be sorry, Majesty. Just step outside and you'll see why any good carpenter is called a demon."

RB!

**Now came the dawn of a day which will be remembered for a thousand years. Longer, unless the censors gain the upper hand.**

Bonya walked out of the Royal bed chamber. Her gossamer gown no more hid her tanned body than wisps of smoke could conceal an inferno. Skilled fingers caressed the coin purse. Brother Lust might be a disgusting little toad, but he did let her keep half of all her tips. And Bonya knew how to get a man to open his treasure chest.

A group of young women came in through the suite door. They were there to bathe, groom and dress the king. And of course, they would take the edge off of him; a man should not be too keyed up for his wedding night, especially when the bride was a virgin.

The Uppertonian smirked. "Not bad pay for a few minutes work."

"You're lucky." The first girl groused. "All you had to do was get him off. We have to clean and butter him up. You have any idea of how much work it is to flatter that ball of neediness?"

"Don't know. Don't care. And I don't use words on losers like that." She tossed her gold, smiling at the weight that landed in her hand. "I just moan."

The jealousy of women empowered Bonya every bit as much as the lust of men. Never one to let a setback get her down, she planned her imminent revival of fortunes.

_Next stop Go City and then Rhodigan. Big plans need big money._

RB!

Ronman did not need the sunlight to shine in his eyes to know it was dawn. Generations of struggle had given his people senses far sharper than those of civilized folk. He wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth before looking down at the black haired beauty stirring in his arms.

Deep green eyes sparkled. "Good morning, you Actuarian love god."

Her smile widened when he blushed. "Morning, Shegoix, was last night okay?"

"Okay? Okay? It was cosmic! I think it's love." The demigoddess pressed herself tightly against him.

_But we didn't do anything. _"So you're…"

"Don't know yet." She shrugged.

"Oh, so in a few days or weeks." Ruthless had taught Ronman much during the long walk from Cordoba to Shadyzar.

"Nope. Another great thing about being a demigoddess." Shegoix slipped out of Ronman's arms and out of the bed. The pale beauty settled into the tub and sighed.

"No morning kiss?" Ronman teased, continuing his role as the blond barbarian lover.

"Not today. It's the king's wedding. No touchie, no feelie, until tonight when everyone celebrates the king's good fortune by getting lucky themselves." Her head tilted as she gave him a playful leer. "So are you feeling lucky?"

"The odds look good." _I loaded the dice last night. _"I never thought you'd be so keen on that kind of tradition."

"Don't get me wrong; I'm not in awe of Drakken. He might be a king and a first-rate sorcerer, but he's just a man and a third-rate lover. Besides, I've seen Granddad lead a herd of horses to water and make them drink. Takes a lot to impress me."

"What does?" he flirted.

"Well, anything I can't cover with both hands does excite my interest." Shegoix gave him the eye. "I've known a lot of people others call great but at the end of the day they're just men. If anyone does impress me, it's you and the ex-Princess."

The Actuarian sputtered in surprise. "Kim and me?"

"You're the only man who ever crossed swords with me and lived. Abyss, I had to use my power to save my head! By the way, I appreciate your aiming for the base of the neck, shows you care."

"Heh, heh, just treating you like Mom told me to." Ronman rubbed the back of his neck. "R-e-s-p-e-c-t. Speaking of which, I can't believe you respect Kim."

"She took everything I could throw at her and she won time after time. The only reason she surrendered was to save your life. Gotta admire that."

_And I've got to ask this. _"What happens to her when we take over?"

"It depends on how much of her soul that Old Fire Witch left. If she burned it all out, the girl will pine away for Drakken like a faithful dog in a ballad. But if she wanted her son to have a Warrior Queen and she left Kimmie's skills intact, she'll come after us. Either way she has to die."

He looked down at the water. Images came to him: her auburn mane seeming to burn away the fog of the lake, those wonderful soft green eyes, shy and fierce, sad and glad by turns. There was the siren in the little black habergeon and the halberd wielding terror of the practice yard and the battle field. Finally he saw the girl clutching a gauntlet, her eyes glowing.

The face that turned up to look at Shegoix was as grim as any Actuarian had ever been. "When the time comes…I'll do it."

Suspicion clouded Shegoix's eyes for a moment. "If she turns sad puppy on us, yes. But if the Red Kim comes knocking, she's mine."

"By Shrom's steel hand, it's a pact." Ronman held out his hand.

The demigoddess pressed her fingertips to his. "I agree by Dad's trumpet."

She rose from the bath. "Come on, it's time to get ready for the wedding."

Someone had painted Ronman's brigandine, helmet and scabbard. His entire outfit was now black and green. _Now I really look like Shegoix's man._

"One last thing, take off the helmet." Ronman bowed his head, watching Shegoix lift the amulet. Kim was lost, but at least he could save her honor and dignity. If only his plan worked. _If only…_

The coin touched him and everything altered.

RB!

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, awoke just before dawn. Frost melted off of her face and around the room, lingering only on the mirror. She walked over and sat across from the ghostly reflection.

*_Are you ready, Sword Sister? They will be here in a very few minutes.*_

Kim whispered. "I am. Before they come, I want to know one more thing."

Vivian the Vivisectrix nodded her assent.

"I didn't ask you last night. What was at stake…with Fen?"

_*His mechanical guards. They were the first of an army he would have used to take over Boulder, and from there conquer the world. Soon the new emperor would have found he had no use for human subjects. Fen would have used my work to murder the world! It was worth four days on the wheel to stop that.*_

_That's it for the pity party. _Kim gave Vivian the Middletonian salute, hand over heart. "I'm ready. Just one more thing…"

Vivian answered what she thought was Kim's question. _*You will feel nothing more than a cold wind passing through you. __Drakken__ will feel the blade.*_

"It's not that, though thanks. I just want to know if Ronnie will be all right."

*_The daughter of Hiyadol is no fool. Once Drakken is dead she will flee. An enchanted boy would slow her down but she would never kill him out of spite, especially since you will no longer be in the picture.*_

"Then he'll live, he'll be free!" The Warrior Princess' smile turned wistful. "Will, will he remember me?"

_*NO ONE forgets a Battle Maid of Elisthar.* _A twinkle in a frosty eye belied Vivian's haughty tone.

Kim sighed. "Then I'm content."

Giggles came from the other side of the door. Soon Marcella knocked and sang out. "Wake up, sleepy head. Today's your big day."

RB!

"Why thank you, Mother!" King Drakken the Usurper sat at his breakfast table holding up the vial, admiring the contents.

"It's just what my Drewbie deserves and a lot better than that tramp should get." Mama King could not help the dig at Shegoix.

"Mother, that's no way to talk about our General and future Imperial Consort." The blue-skinned monarch grinned. "I even know when I'll slip it to her. It will be when we toast our final victory over James. The binding phrase will be 'sweet victory'."

"That's my boy, sharp like his mother." The old fire witch said proudly. "And you might get to make that toast tonight. The morning dispatches predict an assault on the western gate this morning. They spent all last night working on something. You want to go watch the fight? We have a little time before I finally get my daughter."

Her son was apologetic. "Mother, you know how much I love to see my old school buddies work. Unfortunately I have my wedding and Kimila's coronation to oversee, an annexation edict to issue for Uppertonia, a conspiracy with the Lowertonian army to arrange, plus the 'true' story of my dear old friend James' tragic demise to revise…I'm swamped."

"Well, be sure to fulfill your royal duties tonight; I want my grandkids!" Her expression turned maternal and she handed her son an apple. "Eat something, dear. If you don't have your health, you haven't got anything."

"Thanks, Mother. We can listen to the report of the battle later. I'm sure it won't be anything special."

RB!

Over the centuries Middletonia had been the target of many sieges and assaults. Most sooner or later had centered on the Western Gate. Its massive double doors stood across the Road of Kings, promising quick access to anyone who could breach them. The Eastern Gate was just as large, but the slope was too steep for siege engines and so army after army, horde after horde, had thrown themselves at the western portal.

Middletonia's defenses were strongest at its most vulnerable point. The gate itself rested in a fortress complete with murder holes over the road. Two hundred of Drakken's best men stood in their red lacquered armor, crossbows ready. With them were two men whose complexions revealed their alien origins. They wore the robes of senior instructors at MESS. The mercenaries took heart in their master's precautions. Above and behind them brooded the Commander's Tower. No one knew who Drakken had selected for the post, but all could sense the dreadful power within the darkened room above.

The darker, slightly plump sorcerer clenched a pipe between his teeth. His companion, a thinner man with sallow skin and a long face, grabbed the other's arm before he could dip his finger into his pipe's bowl.

"Rhamesh, are you trying to become a pin cushion?" The man from the Far East snapped. "You know they have Free Rider archers out there."

The first man gave his companion a sour look. "The sun has been up for hours, Chen. They had to wait for the sun to rise enough to be out of their eyes. They can't even see a spark now. And have you forgotten my kindle shield? No arrow can get through it."

"They can see smoke easily enough." Chen countered. "And at the right speed and with a dense enough shaft one might. Don't forget, the Free Riders use an all-steel arrow for Buffalo hunting. They may have brought some of those to war."

"I told you not to worry about the Free Riders." Rhamesh snorted. "They're at the Eastern Gates, sitting around and singing about something called tumbleweeds. All we face are Actuarians and renegades."

Rhamesh's confidence was infectious. Chen grinned and popped his knuckles, an ominous sound. "You're right. Let's make Drew proud."

Along the wall men looked to the sound of wheels grinding on the Road of Kings. Great smudge pots sent up thick clouds of smoke, obscuring the view from the walls. Soldiers pulled them away as the sound grew nearer. What emerged from the smoke made Middletonia's defenders gasp in awe.

Hundreds of demons pushed a great war machine toward the gate. Four wheels rolled, each larger than a good sized cottage. The design was as strange as its movers. Curves replaced the usual straight lines. Its surface was a smooth, gleaming white. An enormous shelf with a roll back top came to just under the lip of the wall. Above and behind it was a smaller one.

"They miscalculated." Rhamesh smiled. "Archers, open fire!"

Two hundred crossbows sent incendiary bolts at the towers. The missiles skittered harmlessly across the smooth surfaces. Fires crackled as Rhamesh lifted his hands. Again Chen stopped him. "That's demon made. It could have a reflection charm."

"True, better to know a little more. Let's see what's inside that shell. Cease fire!"

Crossbowmen reloaded and watched demons apply brakes to the massive wheels. The tower rolled to a stop just beyond the walls. Anticipation grew as the men waited for the shell to roll back, revealing the 'Necromancer's' vile attack.

Slowly the shell pulled back; revealing Actuarian archers who stood with bows ready. Neither side opened fire; understandably reluctant to start an archery duel at suicidal range. The shell continued to rise, and all thoughts of slaughter gave way to curiosity.

Behind the barbarians was a stage, at its center was a raised platform holding a tent made on interlaced green, pink, purple and black silk strips. Each silk band led to a spot on the floor. Against the engine wall to the left and right of the stage were orchestra pits. The demons there held or manned instruments that had not been (would not be?) seen for many centuries. The shell locked with a click, and a driving beat began.

A blue hand reached up from the floor to grasp the green fabric. Eyes bulged at the voluptuous creature that pulled herself up through the floor to stand and shake out her green hair. Her loin cloth matched her blue skin, red eyes gleamed and her emerald tassels glittered. She quickly took up the rhythm, moving sinuously in place.

Moments later another vision of loveliness literally slipped out of the pink cloth. Like the first dancer, her hair matched the silk, as did her tassels. Now soldiers and sorcerers were drooling over two demonic seductresses.

"What kind of attack is this?" Rhamesh wondered, his foot tapping.

"We were on duty last night; maybe Drew is making up for our missing the bachelor party." Chen put his elbows on the stone, leaning forward for a better view.

The two lovelies were not alone for long. Two more times the band meted out the same line, first a black haired wonder coalesced like smoke taking solid form. Last, but hardly least, a purple mane beauty crawled down the silk like a spider, her descent showing how little the dancers' costumes left to the imagination.

By now the entire wall had forgotten their weapons; so had the Actuarians facing them. Hundreds of men watched the blue skinned dancers, now moving in unison to the increased tempo. Suddenly the demons on the ground broke out into song.

**(Burn baby burn!)**

**(Burn baby burn!)**

The music stopped for a second. Each demoness grasped the silk beside her and pulled it up from the ground. They sang out.

(_**Burnin**__'!_)

No one had noticed the second shell open; they were all entranced by the display of almost bare flesh. It revealed a massive figure that stretched great arms and smoky wings.

He rolled his terrible head and opened his mouth. But rather than curses there came a shockingly smooth, powerful voice.

**Two mass fires, yes! One hundred stories high  
**

**People gettin' loose y'all gettin' down on the roof - Do you hear?  
**

**The folks are flaming - out of control  
**

**It was so entertainin' - when the boogie started to explode  
**

**I heard somebody say**

On the ground the demon host proved as capable of singing back up as they were of moving war machines.**  
**  
(**Burn baby burn!) - Disco inferno!  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Burn that mama down  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Disco inferno!  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Burn that mama down  
**

**(**_**Burnin**_**'!)**

Feet tapped, shoulders moved to the music. Eyes glazed at the dancers. Those visions of evil beauty danced around the tent holding their silks. Two moved clockwise, the other two went around withershins. They were the epitome of sensual grace; bodies so nearly touching, so clearly responding to each other.

Soon they unraveled the maypole. Another figure stood in front of the pole. The purple hooded cloak reached down to the floor. Only the briefest glance of smooth, flawless skin was seen as she strode forward. Again at their original posts, the Double Damned Dancers jerked their silks from the pole, the material burst into flames and vanished.**  
**  
**Satisfaction** (_**uhu hu hu**_)

The cloaked figure stood at the edge of the raised platform. She threw off the cloak. Purple gloves ran up to her elbows, purple boots reached to her mid thighs. The mail bikini sparkled. Even in the company of preternatural females she was stunning with her peaches and cream complexion, flaming red hair, clear blue eyes and enough attitude for a hundred thousand shows.

**Came in a chain reaction**

Ann held a whip in her right hand. At its crack the DDD ran up. Talon tipped hands grasped the gloves and boots and ripped them away. The five moved to the pounding, driving music, moving like no others could have, and still backing up the massive singer behind them.

**(**_**burnin**_**') I couldn't get enough, so I had to self destruct, (**_**uhu hu hu**_**)  
**

**The heat was on (**_**burnin**_**'), rising to the top, huh!  
**

**Everybody's goin' strong (**_**uhu hu hu**_**)  
**

**And that is when my spark got hot  
**

**I heard somebody say**

Women danced, men forgot to breathe, demons sang.**  
**  
(**Burn baby burn!) - Disco inferno!  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Burn that mama down, ya'll!  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Disco inferno! Yeah!  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Burn that mama down  
**

**(**_**Burnin'**_**!)  
**  
(**Up above my head I hear music in the air) - I hear ****music****!  
**

**(That makes me know there's a party somewhere)**

Only a few present had ever seen what came next. The pole titled, rotating. When it reached its lowest point Ann spun around and caught its top with her whip. The leather carried her up to the metal where she spun and twirled while the best (literally) damned brass section anywhere cut loose. 

**SAAAAATISFACTION!!!!!**

The pole returned to its original position, Ann near the top. Eyes followed her slow, sinuous slide back down. Once her bare feet touched the stage she held out a hand and dropped her costume. Her chin rested against her shoulder. Blue eyes locked Chen and Rhamesh in a seductive stare.

**Came in a chain reaction - Do you hear?**

Ann's voice carried over the music to the wall. "Hello, boys. Did you miss me?"

If Chen had not been leaning against the stone wall he would have fallen over. "Ann the Awesome!"

"You mean Wild Ann." Rhamesh's fingers were too unsteady to draw his purse strings so he threw the entire money bag at Ann. She reached out and caught it, completely unconcerned with what was revealed.

**I couldn't get enough, so I had to self destruct,  
**

**The heat was on, rising to the top  
**

**Everybody's goin' strong  
**

**That is when my spark got hot  
**

**I heard somebody say**

Coins rained onto the stage. Like the professionals they were the dancers ignored them, the four back ups continued to dance across the stage, the one at the pole moved more slowly. All along the wall and in the Actuarian audience viewers shuddered with delight, watching the suggestive motions.

Ann slid around the pole; her body delightfully, infuriatingly obscured by metal and well placed arms. Her voice was conversational. "How are my Magic Men?"  
**  
(Burn baby burn!) - Disco inferno! (Aah yeah!)  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Burn that mama down  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Disco inferno, yeah!  
**

**(Burn baby burn!) - Burn that mama down  
**

**(**_**Burnin**_**'!)  
**

Both sorcerers giggled, still unable to believe that Middletonia's legend remembered them. It had been many years after all, those glorious days of too many classes, not enough sleep and nightly trips to the Tilting Ground.

"We're fine!" Chen called out.

"Where are the other guys?" Ann asked.

Rhamesh answered. "Drew's at the Palace…he's king now! Today's his wedding day."

Through supreme effort her smile did not falter. "Weren't there four of you?"

Chen looked down at the medallion on his chest, the one covering his university seal. "Yes, there were four of us, but for the life of me I can't remember the other one's name."

"Neither can I." Rhamesh shook his head in aggravation. "What is wrong with our memories?"

(**I just can't stop)**

**(When my spark gets hot)  
**

**(**_**Just can't stop**_**)**

**(When my spark gets hot)**

"Maybe I can help." Wild Ann slid around to where her back faced the sorcerers. The move brought applause from the walls. Voices called out and coins rained down in appreciation.

First Rhamesh's, then Chen's eyes widened. She had a tattoo at the small of her back. That was not so unusual for a woman in her line of work. Nor was the design very different from that of so many other strippers: an intricate tribal banding. Certainly none of the soldiers on the walls expressed interest in the artistry, but to sorcerers there is artistry and then there is magic.

(**Burning, burning, burning, burning**...)

The two Magic Men saw what no one else could. The ink lines moved, forming glyphs of power.

"A wizard's mark." Chen whispered. "Someone has declared her the most precious thing in his or her life: the one thing that they cannot live without."

Rhamesh was equally awed. "You can make the mark only once in your life, and if you lose what you mark you die. The only reason a sorcerer would place that on a person is…true love."

The glyphs realigned, allowing the two to read the name of the sorcerer who had staked everything upon retaining this woman's heart.

**James' Dame**

They stood aghast. "James Possible, the fourth Magic Man and our true King!"

Someone walked onto the stage. James had removed his armor and gambeson. He stopped beside Ann and pulled opened his tunic. Given their general lack of physical fitness, sorcerers seldom did this in public, especially those who had put their mark upon something. When James pulled back the cloth Chen and Rhamesh could see the tattoo that encircled his heart.

**Ann's Man**

"Well, he never was much of a poet." Rhamesh shrugged.

Subtle sounds came from either side of the two Magic Men. The sight of James (and the thought of the bounty) stirred Drakken's men to pick up their crossbows. Rhamesh spun to his left and one hundred crossbow triggers turned red hot. Their wielders barely had time to drop them before they burst into flames. On the right Chen snapped his wrist just like Ann had done earlier. Flagstones lifted in a wave-like motion and the rest of the garrison went off of their feet. The red armored men did not stick around to see what else those two could come up with.

**How many of you understand what I'm talking about?**

**I'm not talking about burnin' down a building**

**It's comin' from my soul (I just can't stop)**

**Soul fire (when my spark gets hot)**

**When my soul gets hot (**_**I just can't stop**_**) (when my spark gets hot)**

"That's Chen and Rhamesh." Ann smiled. "I knew I could reach them."

James threw his cloak over Ann's shoulders. "I never doubted that, it's the Tower's Captain that I'm worried about."

They did not have long to wait. Drakken's Captain emerged from the shadows. The vibrant silk robes indicated that her other duties included being Head Mistress of WHAMMO. Her stern face revealed her Far Eastern origins. The Magic Men looked nervously at the strange woman.

Ann did not share their dread. She folded her arms under her bosom and smirked. "If it isn't Wonderful Wanda Wong. Drakken'll hire anybody; even the lazy night shift."

**Now listen, don't you rescue me! (I just can't stop)**

**Let my spirit burn free (when my spark gets hot)**

The figure above swelled with indignation. "Lazy? Look who's talking; stuck up first shift! How hard is it getting college boys randy?"

"Most were poor; you had to work hard for the money." Ann called back.

"At least you didn't have to fence your tips." Wanda's glare turned into a wide smile. "How's it going, Awesome?"

"It's been better. We really need to get inside. You remember Kimmie?"

"I do now, thanks to your number! We'd talked about it, but nobody ever stripped on the pole while it was moving. Glad to see you never quit dancing."

"And disappoint James?" Wild Ann gave her husband a friendly nudge and a leer. "Come on, I bet you were moving to the groove in that room up there."

**Don't you rescue me (**_**I just can't stop**_**) **

**Let my spirit burn free (when my spark gets hot)**

Wanda's robe was somewhat out of adjustment, partially exposing one shoulder. She pulled it back up. "No comment. How can I help you with your daughter?"

"Let us in?"

"You, James, your army, even your barbarian allies, but I have to draw the line at the demons."

James looked up at Flickerfoot and yelled. "Sorry."

The moving, grooving demon shrugged. "No problem: saving your daughter is a noble, heroic enterprise, that's not how we roll. We're just here for the show."

Flickerfoot sang again.

**Everybody sing out (**_**ah**_**)**

**Everybody sing out (**_**ah**_**)**

**You hear the spirit sing out (ah)**

**I'm on fire! (Burning, burning, burning)**

**I'm on fire! (Burning, burning, burning)**

**Let the good times roll (Burning, burning, burning)**

**I'm feeling pretty good ya'll (Burning, burning, burning)**

**The flame is higher (Burning, burning, burning)**

Satisfied, Wanda took a deep breath. She hummed deep in her throat. In the floor above the street soldiers closed the murder holes and moved the kettles off of their fires. Their faces betrayed their surprise as they exited the tower, marching down to the gate. They slid back the great iron bar.

The massive doors swung inwards as men marched and demons sang.

**I'm burning!**

**Burning in my soul ya'll**

**(Burning, burning, burning)**

**(Just can't stop when my spark gets hot)**

**(**_**Just can't stop**_**)**

**(When my spark gets hot)**

**(Burn baby burn)-Disco inferno!**

**(Burn baby burn)-Burn the mother down**

Disco Inferno by the Trammps, from the Saturday Night Live soundtrack, released by Polydor Records.


	25. Veil of the Lost Kim

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

My thanks to the reviewers: Katsumara, MrDrP, airwalker999, Sentinel103, screaming phoenix, CajunBear73, JCS1966, King in Yellow, BlueEyedBrigadier, Michael Howard, whitem, bigherb81, spectre666 and all the other readers/victims of the disco era.

Chapter 24: The Veil of the Lost Kim

King Drakken's breakfast proved exceedingly pleasant, but the food had little to do with it. Wondrous silence reigned when his mother left. Memories danced in his mind; the wild abandon of last night's entertainment, the tender ministrations of his bathers that morning and above all, the innocent yet lustful green eyes of his Kimila. Fantasies sweetened his visions. Soon his claim to Middletonia and its Warrior Princess would be uncontested, and that was only the beginning. Uppertonia would be his within days, and Lowertonia would soon fall without a struggle. With Shegoix at the head of his armies he would be invincible. The world would soon bow before him.

_And soon you'll bow before me again, Shegoix, once I slip you this little victory toast. Then I think I'll let you and Kim kiss and make out…I mean up…no I don't. Too bad I didn't have this vial last night. Nah, that Bonya's smart; once she sees what kind of winner I am she'll come to me!_

_A harem: the hottest girl from each conquered city. Now THAT'S fit for an emperor._

After breakfast courtiers came and dressed him in his simple yet elegant wedding robes. Only their color and the thin gold circlet on his head marked him as royal. The full regalia awaited the new Queen's coronation.

"Ah, the royal wedding ensemble." Lord Cook sighed. "As timeless now as when it was first introduced by…"

"Put a sock in it." Lord Kramer grumbled. "Too bad our old friend Lord Harris sided with the Necromancer. He could be with us now on this glorious day."

Drakken smirked. "Your old friend will have a new name: Harris the Headless! And his lands are forfeit, with each of you receiving half. All of his treasures revert to the Crown."

Someone knocked on the door. At Drakken's nod the guard opened it. A beautiful woman from the Far South walked in. She spoke in a smooth, clear voice.

"This is Head Town Crier Trish Lombrowski reporting. In an unexpected reversal for His Majesty, forces of the Necromancer have taken the Western Gate. Details are sketchy but apparently the sorcerers in charge of defending the gate: Chen, Rhamesh and Wanda Wong, have gone over to the enemy. More details as they emerge."

The other men in the room stepped back in fear. Their King scowled but his only other reaction was an imperious shrug. "They'll soon learn that entering the gate is not the same thing as entering the city. Trish, go back, observe and bring us a full report of our final triumph."

"At once, Your Majesty." The dark woman turned and swept out of the room. "Sketch artists, let's roll!"

Once she left a grizzled man in red armor entered. The Lords left and the soldier saluted his king. He stood at ease while the Usurper poured himself a glass of wine.

"All right, Sims, I've heard the news. Now I need analysis."

The mercenary captain snapped into attention. "Sir! Yes, sir! We have a situation oh-four-niner on our hands."

"Oh-four-what?"

"Oh-four-niner: demonically augmented treachery."

The scarred face smiled. "Demons? You're sure?"

"I watched from a bastion just out of range. The demons put on a show featuring a mortal woman; a mature carrot top with sky blue eyes and a derriere beyond compare."

The spit take was most impressive. "Ann the Awesome came out of retirement? No one told me I'd miss out on her return show!" Drakken crossed his arms petulantly. "Being evil can be so hard!"

But whatever else his failings, Drakken did not lack for resilience. "So is the Cork in place?"

"Sir! Yes, sir! It's blocked and chocked, locked and loaded!"

Another sip of wine helped soothe the sorcerer's nerves. "We can't assume they won't pop the Cork, so what would we do after that? You may speak freely, Sims."

His tongue freed by the release phrase, Sims became even blunter. "James knows you plan to take his daughter today. He'll make straight up the Road of Kings and to the Royal Cathedral. We could fight him in the streets, but that could destroy half of the city, plus every step he advances would be another blow to your levies' morale."

"And your solution? Surrender?" The blue scarred face darkened.

"No, sir! I take my best men and fall back in front of him. While he advances we fill the east half of Drakken Square with the best of our levies and crowd the side streets with our mercenaries. When he reaches the Square you come out with your bride on your arm and give the order. We'll then attack from all sides in overwhelming force."

"And James will have no means of escape. It will be a slaughter!" Dark eyes glowed with anticipation. "Just make sure to bring me Ann alive…and unharmed. She has a command performance to give."

RB!

James' march was a military advance, not a triumphant parade. His caution was justified immediately. Just past the entryway stood Drakken's Cork.

The wheeled contrivance blocked the Road of Kings. It stood chest high, its surface covered in wet green hides. Peeking over the top were a dozen arbalests. They were the first of six banks resting on the hexagonal drum. A mercenary pulled a lever and the bolts flew.

The first ranks of Middletonian soldiers crouched behind their tower shields. The bolts pierced their shields by a hand's span. Another volley thudded into the shields, then another, then another. Cocked by the drum's rotation, the crossbows reloaded from their internal magazines. The Cork could fire for a full hour without interruption. Crews stood by with new magazines and behind them Simms readied his mercenaries.

"Drakken's been busy, Sire." Captain Hobble gasped. "That thing'll shred our boys' shields before they can reach it. Even if we get to it, I doubt we can move it, not with his men fighting us from behind it."

"Then we'll blast it into slag." James started his horse forward but Wanda grabbed the reins.

"Majesty, no spell will work under or through the entryway. You'd be turned into a pin cushion."

"But our daughter." The King flushed with anger. "We'll swarm over it! Sound the…"

"Coming through!" The Twevils raced up to their parents. "Clear everybody out." Tim said.

"This will get messy." Jim smiled.

"And loud." Tim added.

James looked at his sons. Then he looked at Ann. "Honey?"

The Queen shrugged and smiled. "You need destruction."

"Okay, boys." His Majesty motioned. "Just let our men get out of the way first."

Pale faces glowed. The Twevils waited for the vanguard to pull back with their ruined shields. Once the way was clear they pulled curious ceramic globes out of a sack. Each boy took one and touched a glowing finger to a hole. Sparks flew and smoke boiled out from the openings. They stayed stooped over to avoid the missiles. The globes rolled to their objective; wedging themselves under the front of the Cork. After they ran back out the boys counted down.

"Three…two…one…"

No one had ever heard such a sound. In the blink of an eye the fearsome war machine was reduced to kindling. Simms had to pull his men back to prevent an abject rout.

Wanda could not believe it. "No spell could work there. What kind of magic was that?"

The Twevils replied in unison. "The best kind…alchemy!"

Their father lifted an eyebrow. "I suppose talking with Wadelin got you two to pull out some old experiments. Well done, sons."

The King's arm sent thousands of men into motion. "For Kimila…FORWARD!"

RB!

In the Royal Palace Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, looked at herself in the mirror. The simple white dress was beautiful. Her bridesmaids sighed over the broad girdle of fresh flowers about her waist. Yellow blossoms sat in her hair.

RB!

In a hidden room overlooking the altar of the Royal Cathedral Shegoix honed her sword with glowing thumb and forefinger. The raven haired demigoddess looked over at Ronman and smiled. Soon Kimila would belong to Drakken and be out of the picture.

Her sharp green eyes went over the amulet at his throat. Security demanded that he wear it, but those were Drakken's fears, not hers. She had no fears. Nor did she doubt where she stood with the Actuarian after last night. _You don't get loving like that from the unwilling. Once we have the empire, I think I'll petition Dad. A demigoddess should have a demigod for a consort._

Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe, sat staring at Shegoix. Behind the bewitched brown eyes his mind stormed.

_Man, did it work? If it did, I'll get Drakken today. Maybe motion; the walk to the Coronation could do it. No matter what, he won't get Kim!_

A voice cut through his thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

The amulet commanded he answer. "Will the plan work? He can't have Kim!"

Shegoix misunderstood him. "Our plan will work. Trust me. I won't put anything into motion until the war is won. As for Kim, Drakken can't have her. The Kim we knew couldn't be any deader if they had burned her at the stake."

The gorgeous pale warrior pulled off a gauntlet and let her hand trail down Ronman's jaw and to the amulet. "Soon we can get rid of this thing. Well, actually we'll keep it in case Junior gets out of hand. But anyway, you'll be mine and the ex-Princess will be a fading memory for both of us."

"Fading." The mind-controlled boy echoed.

"Now you've got it." Drakken's general sat down and inspected her blade. "Tell you what; we'll shut the blind just as the ceremony ends. That way we can miss it when they ugh…kiss."

RB!

The Royal Cathedral throbbed with excitement. Brilliantly attired guests sat admiring the glorious decorations. They waited for the arrival of the bride. Already the King stood with his lords at the altar.

Drakken's brows knitted at the thunderous sound from somewhere outside. Soon a messenger quietly made his way up behind him.

"Majesty, they've destroyed the Cork and advance on the Cathedral. Simms is pulling back to the Square now."

Drakken turned to an officer. "Captain, take the Guard to the ramparts of the Cathedral. Simms will need archery support."

The officer hesitated. "But, Sire, the safety of yourself and your bride."

"I have…other guards on hand." Drakken turned to the messenger. "Where's Trish?"

The messenger gulped. "She…ah…she joined the enemy, Sire."

"Wha…" the Usurper rolled his eyes. "How could I have made the same mistake twice?"

RB!

In their hiding place Shegoix's shoulders slumped.

"What's wrong?" Ronman asked.

Disappointment lined her face. "Something tells me I just missed a mock window."

RB!

"Sire?" the messenger and guard were confused.

The blue-skinned sorcerer's reminiscing did not help. "We had labs. We always missed her show."

RB!

Now the march resembled a triumph. Eight rows of spearmen composed the vanguard, watching Drakken's mercenaries withdrawing before them. Next rode the True King in the center. To his right were his brother Slim, Lord Harris, Captain Hobble and Dean of Actuaria.

To his left rode Queen Ann, again wearing her armor. Beside her rode Wanda, her robes replaced by a set of black leather straps that promised to show all with every movement but ultimately revealed nothing. It was the perfect outfit for her other stage name. A new rider was to her left. The dark woman had ripped her dress off to the waist and had pulled her just long enough hair across her shoulders.

Mark 'the Target' Archer rode at the end. He called out what he remembered hearing years ago when he was a green mercenary far from home in Middletonia.

"People of Middletonia, the Tilting Ground is proud to present, for your pleasure in your present state, Ann the Awesome, Wicked Wicked Wanda Wong, and Trish LomWOWski!"

The three girls waved to the stunned, scared people of the city. They also moved to the music. Stung by their King's evaluation, the Middletonian Army Band blared out a jazzy version of the tune James had hummed a few nights back. The percussion section rode, accompanying the brass section with their kettle drums.

And as they had all those years ago, the three women put on a show just legal enough for the laws of Middletonia. Dozens of men the age of James or older went rigid with recognition. Then they cheered the True King.

"We're gaining men with every step." James observed to Slim.

His older brother nodded. "Yep. Reckon Drakken aims to fight us in the Square. Gene and Roy are bringin' up our best fighters around to the gate. Lash, Durango and Swannie are pinnin' as many of the enemy on the walls as they can. This won't be pretty."

"Power never is." James answered grimly. "But forget the throne; my only concern is to save Kim."

RB!

To the north a blond barbarian girl sat in a hut. Hands rested on her swollen belly, her eyes returned to their normal blue as she left her trance.

"The King advances in the street. Roman's companions run in the tunnels beneath the city and Kimila enters the Cathedral. Nothing has changed!"

Tara's mother reached out and lay a comforting had on her daughter's shoulder. "I'm sorry, dear."

The girl's hands balled into fists. "No! I won't watch Ronman's heart get broken."

"Dear, you can't! A Seer must not…"

"Mom, please." Tara's blond locks shook. "We use our powers all the time for Tribe, Clan and Family. It's why Seers aren't allowed to marry outside the Tribe. If we can use them for power and money, why not for love?"

Her mother did not even try to argue. "What's your plan?"

"Kimila must not go through with her plan. She's awake, so I can't meet her in the Dreamworld. And there's that Soul Sword to contend with. I need help; someone she knows and trusts…"

RB!

Not all of Drakken's enemies marched on the Road of Kings. Beneath the streets of Middletonia the infamous Breeches Bandit Gang raced for the Cathedral. Wadelin the Alchemist provided illumination with his jar of sunlight. Joss the Free Rider ran beside him, lance ready in her hands. Behind them were Moniquity, Queen of Thieves and RBF&FA and her own Actuarian, Felix of the Renton Clan. They all followed the muscular pink form of a certain Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rat. Ruthless bounded along on all fours, armor clattering.

"Ruthless, slow down!" Wadelin gasped. "We're nearly at the turn to get to the Cathedral. The storage room we're headed for is probably guarded. We'll need our strength."

"Sorry." The NSTMR slowed to a run. "I'm just too full of nervous energy. Everything's on the line. And it may sound weird but I can't help but wonder…how did the show go?"

"THE SHOW?" Joss was incredulous.

"When I was young my cage looked into a window of the dinner theatre next door. Once you've seen a performance of 'The Frost Giant Cometh' the stage is in your blood. I was the Executive Producer for Shrom's sake!"

"We'll find out later." Felix shouted. "Let's go save my plunder buddy."

They rounded the final turn. A great stone column stood in the center of the path. BBG members slipped around either side. Moniquity started to go to the left when a blond vision caught her attention.

"Hi." It said.

CRASH! The graceful girl from the Far South ran head long into the stone. She lay flat on her back, oblivious to Felix's efforts to revive her.

Ruthless growled in frustration. "We're running out of time! Everybody grab a limb, we'll carry her."

Moments later they were on their way. No one noticed Moniquity's lips moving as they carried her along.

RB!

Another party traveled another tunnel. This one connected the Palace to the Cathedral. The bridal party emerged in a small antechamber. The girls hurried to get into position when they heard the music begin.

"Poor dear." Marcella smiled at Kim. "You're trembling with excitement."

Kim did not shiver from eagerness. Only she could see the armored apparition that stepped to the side.

Vivian the Vivisectrix apologized. _*Too close, sorry.*_

Colorless eyes watched the bridesmaids lift a great veil suspended from six golden poles. A wistful expression crossed Vivian's face. _*It's been many centuries since I've witnessed a wedding. Our brides walked behind a veil such as that, only they were naked.*_

Now that their link was complete Kim could talk to Vivian without moving her lips. _We still do that, but it's on the wedding night. I was so looking forward to that…not with Drakken of course, I mean, with someone else. Someone I cared about. Someone like…_

_*Like Ronman?* _The ghost completed Kim's thought. _*I know, Sword Sister. It may seem hard now, but you will keep his memory alive long after all of this has turned to dust.*_

_I don't want to remember dust; I wanted to go to the dust with him! _Sense of duty overcame the sense of imminent loss. _Drakken's at the altar with his mother. Can I get two for one?_

_*Your vengeance is upon Drakken and him alone. His mother, monster that she is, did not overthrow your family.*_

_Didn't think Elisthar would be stingy. _Kim's wry grin was interpreted by those who could see it as a sign of happiness. She could hear them whispering as the party advanced.

"Isn't she lovely?"

"What a Queen she will make."

_*They will certainly never forget you.* _Old Boulder's forgotten sorceress walked alongside Kim, being careful to maintain a distance between her wielder and the bridal party. She would stay with Kim until the final moment of the ceremony, when she would reenter her blade and plunge it into the King and his bride at the moment they embraced.

Kim almost jumped when another voice, a very familiar one, came from her right. "Oh, yeah, they'll remember all right. I saw her, kids, big as life, the Queen. The Queen of QUITTERS! Princess Pack-it-in!"

_Mon? _All of Kim's ferocious discipline was needed to keep her eyes ahead. _Oh, no, what happened?_

"Don't worry, girl. I'm fine. Just knocked out cold." Moniquity grinned before she glared at Vivian. The ghost returned the angry look.

_Then you're a vision? Nobody else is seeing you._

The RBF shrugged. "Somebody you and Ronman know needed some help. And if you won't listen to me you won't listen to anybody."

*_We don't have time for this! Vengeance is moments away.* _Vivian was right; the steps to the altar were only a few feet away.

Moniquity was never caught without a response. "Yeah, and all it costs Kim is her soul. Some deal for Elisthar."

_It's not just vengeance, Mon. I'm saving the kingdom and Ronnie._

"Is that what she's tellin' you?" Moniquity's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Girl, that Shegoix has it bad for Ronman and she's every bit as determined and resourceful as you are. The only hand that can take him out of hers is your live one!"

Kim had never seen Vivian look defensive before. _*Shegoix will flee once Drakken is gone. She would never risk her life to hold onto Ronman. He will be free.*_

"He won't be free as long as he wears that amulet! He'll do anything she says, and with all his might. And you won't just not free him; you won't free the kingdom either."

Now Vivian was spitting frost. _*Liar! Once the Usurper is dead, the spell will unravel. The people will see him for the fraud that he is.*_

Moniquity had fire to match Vivian's ice. "All they will see is their beloved King struck down with his love at the altar! They'll be mad for revenge, and Kim's family will pay! They're in the Square right now facing three times their number. Once the people hear that the 'Necromancer' killed the King and Kim with a magic sword her family's dead! And guess who'll be there to pick up the pieces? Shegoix and her little barbarian boy."

_*But the visions do not lie. Drakken must be removed or the whole of civilization will fall in the West.* _The ghost actually seemed to be losing confidence. _*I never studied these charms, but they don't outlast the sorcerer.*_

"Well maybe you Boulderarians weren't all that because, here, they can!" The Far South Siren let Kim follow her gaze and was rewarded with the light in the soft green eyes.

The stained glass windows of the Royal Cathedral did much more than provide access for light or demonstrate the artistic prowess of Middletonia. Each of the great pieces recorded the rein of a Possible. Here their stories were safe from distortion or vandalism. Each window frame was warded by powerful spells, insuring the glass remained unchanged as long as it rested there.

She looked up to the central window, where her father's window should have been. Instead she saw Drakken's pack of lies…invulnerable in its protective case. The same twin circles that had rimmed Bortelair's amulet encircled the glass. Workers were carefully bringing it out in order to add a new piece: one showing their wedding.

_The key to the spell. _Kim almost gasped. _Destroy that and I…_

"Break the spell!" Her best friend smiled. "I'm no sorcerer; just a pretty girl with super fine thieving and fighting skills and an unerring fashion sense, but your Dad and Bortelair are sure that's the key."

At this point Vivian seemed to be melting. _*But, your vengeance…*_

Green eyes narrowed as she saw the wedding party ahead through the veil, standing under the focus of the Usurper's power. _Like the Great Chuck said, it's not vengeance I want…but justice! Are you with me, Viv?_

RB!

King (and soon Emperor) Drakken stood at the altar. He gave his mother a quick glance and received an approving smile. Even now the army of James should be confronting hopeless odds in the Square. His regular mercenaries had taken their places on the steps and ramparts of the Cathedral. New soldiers replaced them, men whose sallets and gauntlets helped hide their less than human features. Shegoix also watched from the hidden room on the next level. Security was no issue.

The veil was just dense enough to obscure all but her silhouette. Her pose was not what he expected, and where was the outline of the dress? His curiosity heightened when he heard the attendees who could see her gasp.

Mama King pulled on her son's sleeve. "Maybe she decided to go 'Boulder Fashion' at the last minute. Ain't it great to meet an old-fashioned girl?"

The priest lifted his hands and intoned the ancient words. Drakken's pulse raced as the veiled was lifted to reveal…

"THE RED KIM!"

An auburn haired fury stood in her armor, blue-bladed sword in her red-gloved hand. Her fair face bore a feral grin.

"Impossible!" the old fire witch spat. "I reduced your soul to ashes!"

Kim's grin widened. "What part of 'I can do anything' do you not get?"

The Usurper King squealed in terror when she stepped forward. No sword flashed. Instead a crimson boot landed a perfect side kick to Mama King's forehead. Her stout form toppled the too slow guardsmen.

Everyone watched the Battle Maid run for the doorway leading to the walkways that ascended the Cathedral. Suddenly Drakken divined her plan. Anger welled up in his. He yelled.

"Shegoix, stop her! Bring me her head if you have to!"

"Works for me!" She jumped up and reached for Ronman. "Come on, Ronnie!"

The boy sprang, but instead of turning to follow her he opened the secret door, jumping to the floor below. Realization hit Shegoix when she saw the gold chain in her hand. _Cut. He must have filed it last night. He doesn't…he never…_

Her first impulse was to leap after him, but she had a job to do, a quest to complete. She spun back to the stairs, bounding up them despite the blurry vision.

RB!

Kim jumped onto the ramp way. Two armored golems met her at the door. They began to raise their weapons when a figure in green and black armor landed on them, breaking their necks. Brown eyes shone under the horned helmet.

"Ronnie." Kim sadly brought her sword up.

"It's me, KK!" Ronman held his hand out.

"Ronnie!" this time it was a joyous shout. "Come on, I know how to end this!"

He shook his head. "Gotta stay here and keep them off of you." Golems were pouring out of the storage room at the other end of the Cathedral. The Actuarian jerked his head toward the door behind him.

"Go, Kim. I've got your back!"

She wanted to stay, to face the danger with him, but even Vivian saw no need to remind her of her duty. So she smiled, nodded and went through the door.

One of his victims had had a double-headed hand axe. Ronman scooped it up with his left hand. The two weapons wove patterns in the air. The first opponent outran his comrades courtesy of cheetah hind quarters. Ronman knocked his spear aside with his sword and brained him with the axe. Then came an axe parry and a fatal sword thrust. The third he simply divided into as many pieces. Forty-seven more followed.

"Shrom, the odds look good!"

RB!

Ruthless jumped down from the steps. All his great strength could not budge the trap door. "Wadelin, your axe."

The Alchemist tossed his weapon to Ruthless. Quickly the NSTMR climbed the steps and brought the weapon up with a growl. His blow sent the door flying up. Had he pushed another time it would have opened since the golems were no longer weighing it down. Barrels of beer and casks of wine lined the walls, awaiting the end of the marriage ceremony.

The warrior rodent of Actuarian moved to the door. He looked back to see the other members of the gang bring Moniquity up through the door. "How is she?"

"She's coming to." Felix said with relief.

Lovely brown eyes opened. "She's got it. GTH, Tara."

Felix leaned even closer to his love. "Tara? You know Tara?"

Ruthless cracked the door open and peeked out.

"What do you see?" Wadelin demanded.

Ronman's brawny friend could not tear his eyes away. "I see Ronman covered in gore, sword in one hand, axe in another, facing a horde of golems. Guess I should have seen this coming.

"And I see more trouble brewing." His reaction was strange: he dropped his sword, took off his armor and smashed his paw into a keg.

RB!

Ronman jumped back to avoid a halberd. His leap took him next to a swordsman. He ducked and the sword carried another golem's head rather than his. The swordsman's dim mind was befuddled just long enough for Ronman to cave in his chest with an axe blow.

_Got to hold the door. _The need to guard Kim's back prevented him from simply plunging into his enemies. Eight were down, just forty-two more.

_Kim's only facing one, but that one…_

Though he hoped Kim would win, he wished that both combatants would somehow survive.

RB!

Kim ran through the door and up the stairs. She reached the fourth walkway. Warrior instincts stopped her one third of the way across.

The figure stood on a platform at the base of a ceiling arch one floor above. Shegoix spoke in a conversational tone. "You know what I hate?"

Kim raised her sword. "When somebody steals your boyfriend?"

"EXACTLY!" Metal encased hands sent a torrent of green fire at the target below. Kim crouched, the air around her shimmered blue. Green mists, dust and smoke enveloped her. Satisfied with her work, Shegoix stopped. What she saw next momentarily stunned her.

The Warrior Princess stood unharmed on the blackened stones. Her smirk drew another green bolt from the demigoddess. Kim swung Vivian with both hands and sent the destructive energy right back at Shegoix. The woman ducked just before the bolt stuck the stone behind her.

"Ohh, Kimmie made a pact." Shegoix purred. The shrug was dismissive. "Still not in my pantheon."

Her leap carried her to Kim. The two women charged. A sword rimmed with green flame clanged against a glowing blue blade. The two warrior women stood toe to toe for a moment raining blow after blow. When they pulled back Shegoix lashed out with her left hand. The gauntlet's talons raked Kim's sword arm, cutting it down to the bone.

Shegoix flung Kim's blood from her first three fingers in a gesture of triumph. Kim appeared utterly unperturbed. Mists rose from the wounds and the skin knitted together. All that remained were three thin scars, the color of frostbitten flesh.

Kim glanced from her arm to Shegoix with almost colorless eyes. "Nothing comes between Elisthar and her vengeance."

Shegoix laughed. "You…one of Auntie Elisthar's Battle Maids? Guess you are in my pantheon. I knew you were working through a lot of frustration in our fights but not THAT kind! And you are interested in boys, right? Not that I'm closed minded or anything but that outfit just screams 'Hey, sailor, I'm easy.' and I'm not that kind of girl."

"You will be." Kim sneered. "Once Drakken's mom is done with you."

The sharp green eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Last night she showed me her son's wedding gift; a little potion that will turn you into Drakken's toy. You've been betrayed."

Shegoix was taken aback. "I know she would, but Drakken?"

"You really think he would tell his mother 'no', or deny himself power over you?"

Kim's faint hope that the revelation would cause Shegoix to quit the fight was in vain. The pale woman trembled with fury. "Then they're next!"

Not wasting another word, Kim raised her sword. The two charged again, teeth bared, swords flashing.

RB!

Drakken witnessed the betrayal by Shegoix's boy toy. In response he barked new orders. "Cook, Kramer, get the guests up there and kill the barbarian!"

He knelt beside his mother. "Somebody get some help!"

Marcella knelt. "Here, Majesty, drink." Kim's Maid of Honor had taken a crystal chalice from the altar. She put it to Mama King's lips. The old woman swallowed.

Mama King opened her eyes. "Thanks, dearie. Now, Drewbie, let's…"

The old woman's beady eyes crossed. She went limp again, this time with steam coming out of her nostrils and ears.

"What did you do?" Drakken yelled.

Marcella stammered in fear and confusion. "It came from the altar, Majesty, the chalice you and Kimila were to drink from. There's nothing in it but pure, sacred water."

Drakken's eyes went wide. "Water? You never give a fire witch a nonflammable potation!"

He gestured to the guards. "Take Mother to the Palace." He then looked to the lords and officials preparing to advance on Ronman. "What are you waiting on? Kill the boy!"

RB!

Organizing five hundred nobles into an effective fighting force is a daunting task; especially under the eye of a desperate monarch. To make things worse, Lords Cook and Kramer could not resist the urge to assert dominance over one another as well as the men before them. Only Drakken's shout brought a semblance of order. Reluctantly setting their feud aside, the lords gave the order to advance.

The storage room door to their right splintered. Something stalked out on all fours. Muscles rippled under the smooth pink hide. Fearsome fangs glistened, black eyes burned, long whiskers quivered with each snarl.

"Yah!" Lord Kramer screamed. "It's an NSTROUS!"

Lord Cook could not believe it. "A Naked Saber Tooth Rodent Of Unusual Size? They don't exist!"

His friend quavered. "But they do. Back in my grandfather's time in the Old Shire…"

The beast gave out a blood-chilling howl. It bounded around on all fours and gave its head a shake. Foam flew from its lips.

"It's mad!" Lord Kramer shouted. "Forget grandfather…RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!"

502 nobles and officials dropped their swords and ran for the doors. One thousand guests joined the stampede. Their King looked to join them, only to have the BBG block the way. He backed up and bumped into a short but solid obstacle. Ruthless smiled.

"Hink."

"Gnahhh!" Drakken turned back to the BBG. Moniquity smiled a predatory smile.

"Hiya, 'king'. I hear tell you looted the kingdom and that you've put the best stuff in the deepest, darkest room in the Palace and only you have the key.'

"Key? What key?"

Now Felix smiled. "Ruthless, tear his arms off."

The growl sent shivers down the blue-skinned villain's spine. "Oh, you mean this key."

Just this once Moniquity was not fast enough. Drakken threw the key and ran when the BBG's eyes followed its flight the Usurper ran for the main Cathedral doors.

Ruthless yelled. "He's going to give the order to attack! Somebody stop him!"

"Hey, a little help!" Ronman shouted. "I've still got forty over here."

"My sword!" Wadelin handed Ruthless his weapon. The NSTMR, Wadelin and Felix ran to help Ronman. Before the Queen of Thieves could pursue Drakken Joss grabbed her arm. The Free Rider held up her lance.

"I got the blue varmint, you go help Ronman!"

After Moniquity joined the BBG charge Joss hefted her lance and sighted her target. He was faster than she would have imagined, and cunningly wove his way between the columns. There would be no clean shot. Once he reached the door thousands would die. Unless…

On a walkway far above her Cousin Kim battled a fury in green and black armor. She was using all Sixteen Schools of Fencing, but her enemy fought as though trained by the gods. Kim knew what she needed to do, and was a stone's throw from her target, but it might as well have been a mile.

"Cousin, catch!"

It was the throw of Joss' life. Her light lance soared through the air and landed on the walkway were Princess dueled Demigoddess. Kim heard her cousin's shout and the lance landing behind her. A savage Wasp School attack put Shegoix on the defensive long enough for Kim to pick up the new weapon.

Shegoix snorted derisively. "A lance, please! You'll never hit me with that."

Her sneer grew when Kim's throw sailed over her head. Kim's next words wiped the smile off of her face.

"Who said I was aiming at you?"

Sharp green eyes followed the soft green ones and saw the lance's target. Drakken's window was free from its protective cradle: completely vulnerable. Shegoix brought up a glowing hand but before she could launch her disintegrating bolt Vivian slammed into her side. Divinely forged steel saved her from being cut in two but she spun from the force of the blow. Her bolt dissipated harmlessly on another window.

Kim's throw stuck dead center, right between Drakken's eyes. Stress lines ran over the images.

RB!

Outside Drakken prepared to give the order to attack. Precious minutes had been lost restoring order to the panicked lords but now his forces were ready. James sat on his horse with his family just under the great equestrian statue of his great-grandfather. (Now in Drakken's image, of course.) All he had to do was give the order and the Possible Dynasty would truly become forgotten history.

Something made him think of tinkling glass. Mumbling rose from his levies, the men seemed to have lost direction and focus. The great bronze statue shuddered, his features crumbled away and the old king's returned. All around him amulets lost their shine. The levies looked away from him and took up a new cry.

"All hail James Possible! Long live the King!"

Then he heard Simms shout an order he himself was already following. "Save yourselves, men!"

The sorcerer slipped back into the Cathedral, a half dozen spears embedding themselves on the door as it closed. Old skills of evasion and escape has not deserted him, he was gone in seconds.

RB!

Even barbarian endurance knows limits. Ronman was tiring as he slew yet another golem. Over a dozen were down now. Dozens remained. Snatches of the duel above him made it to him. He had to hold on just a little while longer. Then he saw his friends.

"Hey, a little help!" His call brought everyone but Kim's cousin running. All but two attackers turned to face the new threat. Two he could handle. He copied a spinning, jumping attack from Kim's Twin Steel School that had almost killed him at the Lake. What he lacked in polish or badical curves he made up for in sheer strength. Both opponents toppled with upper torsos torn open. Ronman turned and ran up the stairs.

RB!

Shegoix stared in disbelief. Drakken's face vanished from busts and statues. His name faded from inscriptions on the walls. The spell was well and truly broken. _Time to split. _

Someone stood in front of her. Kim began in a conversational tone.

"You know what I hate?"

"That I've done your boyfriend a dozen times?" A wicked grin played across Shegoix's face. Her left foot was forward, she rested her weight on the right. She gripped her sword with both hands.

Kim's answer was curt. "No…you!"

Vivian came down in a two-handed blur. Her opponent caught the attack and the next. Shegoix smiled after the fifth block. She was very familiar with the Smashing Bear School. Numbing as they were, Kim's attacks would not get past her guard. Frosty hair and misty breath aside, the ex-Princess was only flesh and blood. Auntie Elisthar did not grant her Battle Maids invulnerability. All she had to do was parry and wait.

Kim drew back for another overhead attack. The move left her gut exposed. Shegoix began a lunge. _Why is the idiot smiling?_

Elisthar's icy touch on Kim was complete. Her last few steps had left ice on the stone walkway. Before her advance, Shegoix had no reason to notice this. Now her steel sabot found no purchase on the slippery surface. Her arms flailed for balance.

Kim Krimson lashed out. Vivian headed straight for Shegoix's throat. The demigoddess twisted to avoid the killing blow, her feet flew out from under her and she fell off the walkway, hurtling for the floor a hundred feet below.

For the first time in her life Shegoix screamed in terror. Death, her death, looked up at her with a mangled smile. Then a desperate hope presented itself.

Ten feet off of the floor was a shaft of light from another window. Filtered through the stained glass were many colors, including green. She reached out and shouted a supplication.

"Father!"

Shegoix touched the green light and vanished.

RB!

Kim's smile of grim satisfaction did not change with Shegoix's apparent escape. Drakken's spell was broken and his champion and allies defeated. Outside Middletonia acclaimed her father their rightful king. And just below her stood a boy who so owed her a duel.

She picked up Shegoix's sword. Looking down, she held it and Vivian up in triumph. The BBG shouted its approval.

"Abooyah!"

Ronman's cheer died in her throat. Some of Drakken's mercenaries were fleeing their posts on the Cathedral ramparts. Three dozen men moved toward Kim. She took up a Lithe Leopard stance. Under normal circumstances she could have easily held them off, but these men were looking to escape, not fight. The girl stood between them and their best hope of survival, they would get past her if they had to push her over the ledge.

"Kim, watch out!"

Ronman dropped his sword and pulled the axe back over his head with both hands and let it fly. (Everybody knows axes make much better missiles than swords.) The blade turned end over end until it reached its target: the windlass holding the giant stained glass window aloft. The axe shattered the machinery and the mass of glass and metal struck the walkway. Its crash sent the mercenaries screaming back the way they had come.

Their flight was justified. Weakened by fire and weighted down by ice, the stone could not withstand this last outrage. It crumbled with alarming speed. Kim turned, racing the cracks but the ground was already falling out from under her. She made a desperate leap and plunged Vivian into the stone in front of her. One foot made it up onto the ledge before that stone gave way as well.

On the floor below Moniquity recalled her interpretation of Kim's dream. _Either he'll be the love of your life, or the death of you._

Kim gritted her teeth, determined to outdo Shegoix one last time by not crying out.

"NO!" Ronman glanced to his side and saw the rope used to reach the ceiling. Using all his barbarian strength he pulled it from its hook and pushed off from the wall with his feet. Vast experience in falling guided his aim.

He slammed into Kim. Her arms wrapped around him. Their collision threw him off balance and they began to spin. The wall on the other side of the building came up. Ronman tried to turn to where his back, not hers, would hit it.

Leather and metal crushed into his back. His head jerked and a horn snapped off from his helmet. They slid down beside the doorway. After a minute he regained his breath.

Kim lay face down in his lap. She was not moving.

"Kim, Kim are you all right? KK, does it hurt?"

"Only…when you don't hold me." She raised her head. The beautiful hair was across the right side of her face. He could see half of a radiant smile.

"Kim." He breathed softly. Her expression brought his silence. He could tell she had something to say.

"Ronman, Ronnie, I lo…" She jerked ever so slightly. "I l…" The hair over her face was changing color as it matted with blood. The left eye shut and she slumped down in his lap.

"Kim? KIM!" he thought to hold her close, but found his arms would not obey the order. All he could do was scream.

"Somebody, anybody…HELP!"


	26. Trials and Revelations

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: Sentinel103, Eddy13, CajunBear73, screaming phoenix, Katsumara, Wanderer3, MrDrP, bigherb81, King in Yellow, JCS1966, Isamu, whitem, Comet Moon, Michael Howard, airwalker999 and all the other guests.

Chapter 25: Trials and Revelations

**Despite all odds and obstacles a miracle had occurred: Drakken the Usurper was defeated without a battle. But for the Possible Dynasty the question remained, had their victory still come at too high a price?**

To the Royal Ps it seemed to take longer to reach the Royal Cathedral steps than it had to enter Middletonia and march to the Square. Adoring subjects waved the weapons only recently trained upon their sovereigns. The nobles and officials knelt on the Cathedral steps, begging pardon. King James forgave them as quickly as courtesy allowed and then gave them a duty to perform. The grateful nobility took their posts on the steps. Their privacy now secure, the King, Queen, their sons and the Royal Brother entered, accompanied by their bodyguards and allies.

Soon the doors opened. The Actuarians emerged carrying a blond boy on a litter. Many stared at the brawny NSTROUS who helped the northern warriors with their burden. Middletonians respectfully gave way and the party hurried to the College of Healers on the south side of the Square.

The doors closed again. This time they remained closed for far too long. Restless and anxious, the crowd waited.

Finally another party emerged with a second litter. Slim and his daughter Joss were the first bearers. Behind them were the twins Tim and Jim and the Royal Bodyguards. James and Ann walked at the center on either side; each clutched a red gloved hand. Their royal cloaks covered the rest of their daughter's body.

RB!

Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia, awoke to utter darkness. Never had she seen such blackness, not even the time she had dropped her torch in one of Drakken's many cavern lairs. At least there she could feel the air stirring and hear water dripping. In the stillness and dark she did not even know if she was standing, sitting or lying down.

She tried to call out, but the sound never left her throat. The first whispers of fear began to gnaw at her mind. That was when she heard someone walking in armor.

"Is that you, Vivian?" she asked, startled by the sound of her own voice.

Vivian's reply was audible. "Yes."

Kim strained her eyes against the black. "And is this death?"

"This is death."

Kim hung her head, realizing that she was standing. "So it was hopeless. Elisthar won." Defiance returned to the Red Kim. She smirked. "I would have thought she'd want to carry me to Valhalla and dangle me under Shrom's nose."

"You will see Valhalla, once you are melded with your blade."

"Sounds painful."

"You will sleep the entire time." Vivian sounded like a mother reassuring a sick child. "When you awaken, you will be a true Tear of Elisthar."

_It's what I signed up for. _"Why are we here, Viv?"

"I want to show you something." Kim did not feel any cold when Vivian's icy hands touched her eyes. The darkness faded away.

They stood on the Cathedral ramparts. A festival filled the Square with color and joyous sound. Everything was centered on a statue that Kim did not recognize. Two bronze figures stood larger than life. The sculptor had taken artistic license, making Ronman left handed so that his likeness and Kim's could hold hands even as they wielded their swords.

"This is a century from today." The old ghost made no effort to hide her pride. "Middletonians celebrate the day you defeated Drakken and Shegoix as Freedom Day. They also honor your memory and mourn the love that you left behind."

Faint green eyes gazed at the statues. The new ghost whispered. "The love I left behind."

Kim watched the revelers until the sun began to sink. Their songs were of her and Ronman. Her mouth twitched when she heard a line where she vowed to remain pure until her people were free. _That is so not how that went down. _But time and again she could see her clumsy, goofy, wonderful Actuarian in the lyrics. A wistful smile crossed her face. Finally she turned to Vivian.

"Thank you, Sword Sister. I guess we'd better go."

In response Vivian simply walked up the Cathedral wall and onto the roof. _No need to take a deep breath, I don't breathe anymore. _Without another thought Kim followed the Boulderarian. Much to Kim's surprise a path led from the rooftop. She recognized the rocky way; she had climbed it the night she had tried to break her pact with Ronman's assistance. He followed her up the mountain, they talked and, to cap off the night, their respective deities had argued like overgrown children. No doubt Elisthar was rubbing it in on her divine brother.

The ledge was covered with ice and snow. Elisthar again stood in the clouds under a full moon. Hundreds of women stood behind her. Every race and kingdom was represented, including many that Kim did not recognize even in legend. Gold thatched roofs gleamed in the background: her first glimpse of Valhalla.

The goddess' single sharp eye captured Kim in its stare. *KIMILA POSSIBLE, AGAIN YOU STAND BEFORE ME. ANSWER ME TRUTHFULLY, DID YOU MAKE A PACT WITH ME?*

The Warrior Princess stared fearlessly into the terrible gaze. "I did."

*AND DID YOU ACHIEVE YOUR VENGEANCE?*

"Yes." Kim answered proudly.

Elisthar's Tears raised their weapons and gave a shout of triumph. When the sound died away Elisthar asked her final question. *AND DID YOU DIE IN A STATE OF PURITY?*

_In my thoughts and dreams…so impure. _But Kim would not lie even she had been able to. "Yes."

*THEN I CLAIM YOUR SOUL FOR MY ETERNAL SERVICE. AS YOU DREW VIVIAN FROM THIS BOWL, SO SOMEDAY ANOTHER SEEKING VEGENANCE WILL DRAW FORTH MY NEWEST TEAR: KIM KILLER.*

The one-eyed goddess shrank to human size and stepped onto the solid earth before Kim. She held Kim's copper bowl in her hands. The cold metal touched the girl's skin and her armor fell away from her chest. She could feel the scar opening and a rush of warmth as the last of her heart's blood prepared to leave her body.

_Will the last of my humanity bleed out with it? _Kim wondered. Grandiose romantic dreams flashed before her eyes. The florid visions quickly gave way to memories of her clumsy, goofy, brave, loyal and handsome Actuarian. The smile, the laugh, the way he rubbed the back of his neck when he was nervous, which was often. _But nobody but my parents had ever stood up to me like he could. _These things she would treasure forever. Such simple things…

Warmth gathered in another, unexpected place. Kim's vision of Elisthar clouded, even as she felt the first rivulet of blood enter the bowl,

"Stop!"

Kim and Elisthar started from their mutual trance. The Goddess of Global Vengeance glared at Vivian, who had dared to put her hand on Elisthar's arm. The ghost continued. "My Lady, Goddess, please…you can't."

Once again Elisthar was a giant whose voice shook the ground. *CAN'T? YOU WOULD TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CANNOT DO? YOU ARE MY CREATURE! WITHOUT ME YOU WOULD BE A PATHETIC SHADE FLITTING ABOUT IN THE UNDERWORLD!*

Vivian bowed her head. "I mean no disrespect, My Lady. All that I am comes from you. But, please, spare Kimila…be merciful just this once."

Elisthar frowned. *MERCY? SHE'S ALREADY DEAD. THAT BARBARIAN BOY SMASHED HER INTO THE WALL WHEN HE TRIED TO SAVE HER…TYPICAL! SHALL I SHOW HER WHAT SHE TRULY LOOKS LIKE?* She raised a glowing hand.

Vivian dropped to her knees. "No! What need has she to see that, especially when a god can heal it so easily."

*TRUE.* the rage subsided in Elisthar's eye. *THE BODY IS EASILY RESTORED. BUT ONLY FATHER CAN BRING BACK THE DEAD, AND ONLY A GOD CAN PETITION HIM TO DO SO, AND WHAT GOD WOULD DENY ME MY TEAR?*

Everything wavered and Elisthar grumbled. *SNAP.*

They stood in a massive hall warmed by great fires. The golden roof reflected the flames. Even a goddess and her hundreds of warriors were dwarfed as they stood before two thrones.

No one was surprised at who stood to their right with the Chosen Slain of Actuaria behind him. The two entourages eyed each other warily.

*SHELDROM, I SHOULD HAVE GUESSED.* Elisthar shook her head.

Her one-eyed brother puffed out his chest.*I BELIEVE I HAVE AN INTEREST IN WHAT HAPPENS TO THIS MORTAL. THEREFORE I HAVE DEMANDED AN AUDIENCE WITH MOM AND DAD.*

The hall grew more splendid when gods, goddesses and heroes filed in from a hundred doors. Heroes lined the walls and the deities took positions on either side of the thrones. Kim recognized the rainbow haired Hiyadol. His multicolored eyes never left her.

Behind the thrones was a door. It opened and a woman of perfect beauty entered the hall to take her seat. She smiled warmly at Elisthar and Shrom. *HELLO, KIDS. YOUR DAD HAD A FEELING YOU'D BE IN TODAY.*

*WHERE IS HE? WE HAVE A DISPUTE TO SETTLE.* Shrom's attempt at indignation failed miserably.

*WHERE HE ALWAYS IS AT THIS TIME OF DAY: EXERCISING. THE EARTH DOESN'T PUSH ITSELF DOWN, YOU KNOW.* the goddess' warm eyes settled on Kim. *SO YOU'RE THE LITTLE GIRL THAT MY CHUCK WAS SO IMPRESSED WITH.*

Kim felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Then she realized that she was standing topless in the Halls of Valhalla. She covered her chest with her arms.

*POOR DEAR, DEAD OR NOT YOU MUST BE FREEZING.* The Divine Mother opened a small chest beside her throne. A golden cloth lifted out and fluttered through the air to rest upon Kim's shoulders. It filled her with warmth.

'Thank you." Kim said. Her voice was all but lost in the vast hall.

*YOU'RE WELCOME. THAT'S THE RECEIVING BLANKET I USED FOR BOTH ELLI AND SHROM-SHROM. THEY SPEND SO MUCH TIME BICKERING THAT THEY FORGET HOW MUCH THEY HAVE IN COMMON, LIKE HOW MUCH THEY BOTH ADMIRE COURAGE.*

*MOM.* the children also had embarrassment in common.

Just then the door opened again. Out stepped the Great Chuck, a towel over his mighty shoulders. He hopped into his chair. ***HI, KIDS**.*

*AH, HONEY,* His wife glanced at his baggy breeches, bare chest and feet. *THIS IS A DISPUTE BETWEEN DEITIES. SHOULDN'T YOU DRESS LIKE THE HEAD OF A PANTHEON FOR THIS?*

***RIGHT AS ALWAYS, DEAR**.* the air around him shimmered and the Great Chuck now wore a magnificent embroidered red tunic with blue breeches tucked into brown boots. _If Uncle Slim was a god he'd dress like that. _

Elisthar and Shrom stared expectantly at their father. At first Kim thought they were waiting for the hearing to begin. The God of Two-Fisted Justice turned to his wife. ***I DID THAT WHEN THEY WERE KIDS…TO SHOW THAT I DIDN'T PLAY** **FAVORITES**.*

The goddess smiled. *BUT THEY STILL LIKE IT. THEIR BROTHERS AND SISTERS LIKE IT. AND I LIKE IT…IT MAKES YOU LOOK DASHING.*

***ALL RIGHT. ALL RIGHT**.* From out of nowhere Chuck produced an eye patch, much to the delight of the younger gods. He slipped it over his left eye and rapped the arm of his throne with his all-conquering knuckles.

***I** **DECLARE THIS DIVINE COURT IS SESSION. SHROM, AS PLAINTIFF YOU** **MAY GO FIRST**.*

Shrom bowed. *THANK YOU, FATHER. I MAKE THIS PLEA, NOT ON MY BEHALF, BUT FOR ONE OF MY SUPPLICANTS, RONMAN OF ACTUARIA, SON OF DEAN AND BARBARA OF THE STOPPABLE CLAN OF THE FEARLESS FERRET TRIBE. THOUGH A MERE YOUTH OF EIGHTEEN WINTERS HE IS ALREADY A LEGENDARY WARRIOR, THIEF AND LOVER.*

At the last snickers arose among the gods. Kim felt the tiniest tinge of a blush.

Shrom glanced sidelong at Elisthar. *TWICE HE HAS FOUGHT THIS MORTAL, KIMILA POSSIBLE, WARRIOR PRINCESS OF MIDDLETONIA, IN THE QUEST OF FREEING HER FROM HER PACT WITH MY SISTER AND WINNING HER LOVE. IN THE FIRST DUEL HE DISARMED HER, A MIGHTY FEAT, ONLY TO HAVE HER BEGUILE HIM LONG ENOUGH FOR HER TO REACH ANOTHER WEAPON AND STEAL VICTORY FROM HIM.*

_So not how it happened. _Kim seethed, then she smiled a little smile. _Though it was so the romantic drama when I slipped the strap off of my shoulder. _

Shrom continued. *EVEN THAT DAY, WITH THIS WILD WOMAN OUT FOR HIS BLOOD, HE WAS WILLING TO RISK HIS LIFE TO PROTECT HERS, THE MARK OF A TRUE HERO, A HERO IN LOVE!*

If it had been beating, Kim's heart would have skipped. Even though he had yet to tell her in as many words, she knew how he felt. But how many women knew the thrill of a god affirming those feelings?

*AFTER THE FIGHT HE JOINED HER CAUSE. NOT EVEN AN ENRAGED SOUL SWORD COULD DISSUADE HIM FROM STAYING BY HER SIDE. HE FOUGHT VALIANTLY IN THEIR SECOND DUEL, HEEDLESS OF ALL THE DISADVANTAGES HE FACED WHEN FIGHTING HER ON HER HOME GROUND.*

_What disadvantages? I even took the wrong end of the field; I wanted to lose so badly. _

*FINALLY, ON THE NIGHT BEFORE THE FATEFUL MARCH ON MIDDLETONIA, RONMAN PERSENTED KIMILA WITH A GAUNTLETT OF CHALLENGE. NO WARRIOR WORTHY OF THE NAME CAN REFUSE THAT.*

*A DEAD WARRIOR CAN!* Elisthar interrupted her brother. *SHE MADE A PACT WITH ME FIRST: HER SOUL IN EXCHANGE FOR MY AID IN GAINING VENGEANCE ON DRAKKEN. SHE IS MINE SHOULD SHE DIE WITHOUT BEING BEATEN BY A MAN IN A FAIR FIGHT. THE BOY HAD HIS CHANCES!*

During her speech the Great Chuck shifted the patch to cover his right eye. He groaned.

***YOU GUYS KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE CONTRACT DISPUTES. I'M CALLING IN AN OUTSIDE PARTY.***

A portal opened in front of Kim. It did not glow with perfect light, but neither did it spill forth utter darkness. It was both and neither; perfect ambiguity. The emerging figure was thin and energetic. His sharp features glowed with quick intelligence. Not even the mighty assembly could rattle his nerves or dampen his smile.

"Who are you?" Kim asked.

*HABEAS ALIBI, ATTORNEY TO THE GODS.* at that phrase a table piled high with scrolls appeared at his side. He bowed to the seated god and goddess.

*I HAVE EVERYTHING RIGHT HERE, YOUR GREATNESS. BUT BEFORE I START…*

The Great Chuck nodded and a pile of gold equal to the Divine Attorney's height materialized behind the table. This prompted a comment from Syndra, the Ten-Headed Goddess of Smart Remarks.

*SHOULDN'T THAT BE IN THE FORM OF A WEASEL?*

Laughter rolled under the golden roof. Still the newcomer's smile never wavered. He waited for the Great Chuck to lift his eye patch and wipe the tear away. Once the god had the patch back in place Habeas Alibi began.

*LIKE I SAID, I HAVE THE CONTRACT RIGHT HERE. IT'S VERY SPECIFIC: KIMILA POSSIBLE IS BOUND TO ELISTHAR FOR ALL ETERNITY IF SHE DIES A VIRGIN. ONLY HER DEFEAT IN A FAIR FIGHT COULD BREAK THE OBLIGATION. IN EXCHANGE ELISTHAR IS BOUND TO ASSIST THE GIRL IN HER QUEST.

A FAIR FIGHT COULD BE EITHER A CHANCE ENCOUNTER OR A FORMAL DUEL. SURRENDER IS ACCEPTABLE IF SHE WERE TO BE DISARMED OR PUT IN A POSITION OF INEVITABLE DEFEAT…I.E. SWORD AT HER THROAT…UNLESS THE OPPONENT IS THE OBJECT OF HER VENGEANCE OR ONE WHO WOULD TURN HER OVER TO SAID OBJECT. IN ADDITION TO ASSITING HER IN BATTLE, THE SOUL SWORD, VIVIAN THE VIVISECTRIX, WOULD PROTECT THE MIDDLETONIAN'S VIRTUE AGAISNT UNLAWFUL FORCE OR FRAUD. THE OBJECTS OF HER AGGRESSION COULD BE THOSE KIMILA FANCIED OR EVEN THE GIRL HERSELF, THIS EXPLAINS THE SWORD'S ATTACKS ON RONMAN, AND THE PLANNED DOUBLE SPITTING OF KIMILA AND DRAKKEN TODAY.*

The young god shrugged sympathetically. *MUCH AS I FEEL FOR THE GIRL, THERE IS NO ESCAPE CLAUSE FROM THE CONTRACT. WHILE KIMILA HAD AGREED TO DUEL RONMAN AGAIN, DEATH HAS A WAY OF NULLIFYING THINGS.*

Another crowd sighed at Kim's loss. (She certainly did not count her duel with Ronman as a victory.) Elisthar stuck her tongue out at her brother before she addressed the other assembled gods. *MY BROTHER'S REQUEST IS DENIED, DOES ANYONE ELSE DARE TO CHALLENGE MY CLAIM?*

Gods and goddesses looked around in forlorn hope. Suddenly an almost familiar voice cut through the despairing silence.

*WHAT THE HAY? I'LL GIVE IT A SHOT.*

Elisthar bridled at the voice. *YOU? WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OR YOURS? AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN A GODDESS…JUST AN ELEVATED MORTAL!*

*DON'T DISS MY WIFE.* Hiyadol said with danger in his voice. *I DON'T SEE WHY YOU WOULD WANT TO HELP HERE, BUT IT'S YOUR CALL, MY LOVE.* This time Elisthar was silent as a woman emerged from the assembled deities.

_Shegoix! _Kim reached to her side, but Vivian now stood behind Elisthar. This woman bore a striking resemblance to her nemesis, though she stood eight cubits tall and the hair at her temples sported the colors of the rainbow. Instead of green fire around her hands, her entire body glowed with divine majesty. Her smile filled Kim with hope.

*CHILD, WHAT HAVE YOU DOWN THERE THAT'S WORTH LIVING FOR?*

The answer came instantly. "True Love."

Kim's words were like lightning in the hall. Elisthar found that she had to shout her objections. *PROOF! I DEMAND PROOF, MAGNIFICA!*

Once again Syndra could not resist. *YOU'D KNOW LOVE EXISTS, ELISTHAR, IF YOU'D EVER SPREAD YOUR…WINGS…AND GET OVER YOUR FEAR OF FLYING.*

The Great Chuck rapped his chair, and this time the noise was like thunder. (There was no other way for him to be heard.). ***THIS IS A COURT, NOT A FAMILY GET**-**TOGETHER!*** There was quiet, along with a few mumbling 'Sorry, Dad, sorry, Mom.' and the Head of the Pantheon nodded to Magnifica.

She returned the gesture. Kim had seen that look of supreme assurance before. *THE PROOF IS RIGHT HERE, ELISTHAR. EVEN YOU CANNOT MISS THE TRACKS OF HER TEARS!*

Eyes that could pierce the dark, the earth, and time itself all fixed upon Kim's face. Down each cheek was a break in the frost. Deities and heroes gasped in wonder.

*WHO EVER HEARD OF A TEAR, A SWORD SISTER, WEEPING REAL TEARS? GAZE BACK, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, THE BEST SHE COULD DO YESTERDAY WAS LEAK FROST FROM HER COLD, HARD EYES. YET TODAY, WHEN SHE CONFRONTED ETERNITY AWAY FROM HER LOVE SHE CRIED!

Elisthar blinked in shock. The reaction made Magnifica smirk before she turned to face the thrones. *GREAT CHUCK…*

He smiled. ***PLEASE, IF 'DAD' STILL MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, 'CHUCK' WILL DO JUST FINE. YOU'RE FAMILY**.*

*CHUCK. I SUBMIT THAT THIS YOUNG WOMAN DESERVES ANOTHER CHANCE AT LIFE. NOT BECAUSE SHE HAS SHOWN GREAT COURAGE, SELFLESS LOYALTY, OR PERFORMED MIGHTY DEEDS. THIS HALL IS PACKED WITH SUCH MORTAL SPIRITS.

*NO. INSTEAD I SUBMIT THAT THIS WOMAN HAS DONE SOMETHING FAR MORE RARE AND WONDROUS…SHE HAS FOUND TRUE LOVE! NO PACT CAN COME BEFORE TRUE LOVE, NO FORCE CAN DENY IT. NOT EVEN DEATH CAN STOP IT!*

A bit of the soft green came to her eyes, a touch of color returned to Kim's cheeks. Magnifica, Goddess of Long-Shot Loves, smiled at the girl and said very softly.

*IT CAN ONLY DELAY IT FOR A LITTLE WHILE.*

The tide had clearly turned against her, so Elisthar tried a new tactic. She raised her hands. *I WILL NOT STAND IN THE WAY OF TRUE LOVE. DO WHAT YOU WILL, FATHER. KIM MAY BE RESTORED TO LIFE AND THE CHANCE OF SECURING TRUE LOVE. HOWEVER, IT MUST BE IN ACCORDANCE WITH YOUR OWN RULES. I BELIEVE WE HAVE A THIRD PARTY HERE WHO CAN ASSURE THAT ALL CONDITIONS ARE MET.*

Habeas Alibi rubbed his hands together at the thought of the additional billing. *INDEED I CAN. THE FIRST CONDITION IS ALREADY MET; KIMILA POSSIBLE HAS PERFORMED DEEDS THAT WILL BE REMEMBERED BY HER PEOPLE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS.

*AS FOR THE SECOND.* The DA waved his hand in the air. A vision of Middletonia appeared. People smeared sooth on their doors and shuttered windows. All flowers were being covered. Loud wails rose from the streets and from shut up rooms. The young god stared intently for a moment, then he nodded. *CONDITION TWO CHECK. ON TO CONDITION THREE.*

The hand waved again. The scene was the visitor's suites in the Royal Palace. Ronman lay in a bed staring at the ceiling. The BBG clustered around him. None of them tried to hide their worry. His parents stood at the door with Middletonia's Chief Healer. The old woman's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"We have repaired his injuries." She sighed. "There is nothing preventing him from getting out of the bed and leaving the room."

"Nothing but a broken heart." Barbara choked on her words. Dean pulled her close. They struggled not to cry.

The Healer gazed back at the bed. "We've all seen this before. Usually the person is much, much older. One person dies, and their mate pines away. There is only one thing that could save him, short of Princess Kimila coming back from the dead, and even if Drakken the Accursed had not made such spells beyond the pale, I would never urge the erasure of his memory. What good is life if one is naught but a walking, breathing ghost?"

The walking, non-breathing ghost in Valhalla grew even more substantial. It was clear to all that the Third Condition had been met.

*THAT MAKES THREE. AS TO THE FOURTH…* the dapper God of Legalisms looked unusually thoughtful. *THE FINAL PERSUASION MUST COME NOT FROM A FRIEND, NOT FROM AN ALLY, BUT FROM A TRUE ENEMY.*

His words brought Kim's hopes crashing to the ground. Her despair was not shared by Magnifica. The goddess turned to the corner where the Dark Gods clustered and she cleared her throat. When there was no response she motioned to her husband. Reluctantly he joined her in repeating the sound.

The Dark Gods made way for someone. Kim instantly recognized the green and black armor, black hair and sour expression.

Magnifica gave her daughter a meaningful look *SHEGOIX, DON'T YOU HAVE SOMETHING YOU WANT TO SAY TO YOUR GRANDFATHER?*

The demigoddess rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Granddad, I've fought with this girl…a lot, and I never could get the better of her until today when I killed her…"

The flash in Kim's eyes came from fire rather than ice. "So not what happened, Shegoix! My death was an accident."

"On the bridge where I stopped you, a bridge that my blasts weakened. I claim partial credit." Shegoix gave Kim a sneer before going on. "Only she could have stopped me and Drakken. If anybody's earned another shot it's her."

One god still needed convincing. After he shrank down to human size Habeas Alibi stepped up to Shegoix. *PRETTY WORDS, BUT ARE YOU TELLING THE TRUTH? BEFORE YOU ANSWER ME REMEMBER THAT I'M THE FINEST LIAR IN THE NINE WORLDS, YOU CAN'T PULL ANYTHING OVER ON ME.*

A green gauntlet went up to a green eye. "Just take a look, legal beagle."

In a moment he nodded. *THAT'S ALL FOUR!*

The walls trembled from the cheers. Kim literally almost felt alive. Then Shegoix was in her face.

"Don't thank me yet, ex-Princess. Do you want to know why I did it?"

"To avoid a spanking?" Kim's gibe brought a snarl to Shegoix's lips.

"Mom and Dad are only a small, small part of it. You've been a worthy opponent and you deserve another shot…another shot at pain!"

Shegoix stalked around Kim while she talked. Although she kept staring straight ahead, Kim never lost sight of her nemesis. "Mom's right, you truly love him. That means that the two of your could be truly happy together. That doesn't happen to a pair of mere mortals once every hundred years, no matter what the poets say, so no one in a century is going to suffer like you will!

"Did you know there is a Fifth Condition? For the person in question to stay alive, their love must accomplish an impossible task. In your case, that means Ronman has to defeat you in your coming duel. He couldn't beat you when you were a little miss lonely hearts Battle Maid. What hope does he have now that you're a Tear in all but name?"

Shegoix's eyes were depthless pools of hatred. "And when you beat him again, when you put your foot on his chest and set your sword tip to his throat, he'll see you for what you truly are. He'll see that ruined face of yours.

"The last thing your good eye will see is his look of disgust. The last sound you'll hear will be his cry of terror. You'll slump forward, knowing that he'll be trashing and screaming under your putrefying corpse. And you know how vengeful Auntie Elisthar is; she'll make you relive that moment in your steel tomb until she reduces you to a heartless piece of ice. But you know True Love, so eternity won't be enough time. So you'll see it, over and over and over forever and ever and that, **that,** _ex_-Princess, is the pain!"

Now Shegoix's voice took on a cloyingly sweet tone. "And who do you think will be there to pick up the pieces of Ronnie's broken heart?"

Kim found new resources of heat. "It's Princess, Shegoix, we won, and not you not when…"

"But you can't, Princess." The demigoddess's smile was maddening. "You owe me your second chance. Rules say you can only tell people what I said to the court to save you. This is just between us girls. Have a nice visit; you'll be back real soon."

Finished with her taunt, Shegoix stepped back with a bow. Kim trembled in anger and sudden fear as the Great Chuck knelt to where he only had to bend down a little to catch her eye.

***DON'T WORRY ABOUT WHAT SHE SAID. TRUE LOVE ALWAYS FINDS A WAY. SO DO TRUE HEROES. I RESTORE YOUR LIFE. FOR YOU TO LIVE YOUR FULL SPAN OF LIFE, RONMAN MUST DEFEAT YOU IN THE COMING DUEL AND CLAIM YOUR LOVE. GOOD LUCK.***

He touched her with a massive fist. She felt herself leave the floor and rise toward the image of her grief-stricken city. Before she left Valhalla she saw the Great Chuck put his arms around both Elisthar and Shrom.

***COME ON, KIDS. IT'S NIGHTTIME IN THE REALM OF CHAOS. WHY DON'T WE GO HIDE IN THE BOOGEY MAN'S CLOSET FOR OLD TIME'S SAKE?***

RB!

Again Kim was in darkness, but even without opening her eyes she knew it was very different. She could hear water dripping somewhere. The air was heavy with perfumes and spices. And she felt…

"C-C-C-Coldddddd."

The response to her words was a shriek and a crash. Kim's eyes(!) flew open.

She lay naked on a cold marble slab. Only a thin silk sheet separated her from the stone. Her body refused to obey her commands to move. Only the eyes seemed capable of movement. The left eye tracked movement below her. A fair hand pulled up a woman soaked in scented, red tinged water. Her red hair was disheveled, her huge eyes were blue. The face was a battleground where hope contended with terror.

"M-Mom?"

"Kimmie?" New tears followed trails blazed by thousands.

Much to her shock, Kim realized she was breathing. A smile touched her face.

"KIMMIE!"

The Queen's joy was tempered by concern. "Kimmie, can you turn your head?"

"I-I don't know, Mom. It's like when you've slept on your arm the wrong way. Kim grimaced, but her head did turn to face her mother. Ann's face told her everything.

"You're healed!" Ann jumped up, took the corners of the sheet and wrapped her daughter in it. All the time she was talking. "When we finally pulled the hair away from your face… And the sound of bones grinding when your head moved…"

She carried Kim over to a chair covered with a large fur. A charcoal brazier burned beside it. Ann sat down with Kim, pulled the furs around them, and hugged the girl to herself with all her might.

Kim could not even put up a quarter-hearted struggle. "Mom, I'm not a baby anymore."

"Oh yes, you are! You'll always be my little Kimmie!" She was pulled even closer. The two sat there, drawing warmth from each other. Little by little, Kim regained control of her limbs. Each deliberate movement brought new joy to her mother. Kim looked up, dreading what she had to say.

"Mom, for me to…stay alive, Ronnie has to beat me in the next duel."

"So that's the impossible task. At least it's not the old bit where he can't turn to look at you while you follow him out of the Underworld." Ann chuckled softly. "Men are so visually oriented."

Kim looked around at the black marble, and the massive sound proof door that was bolted from the inside. She had never been in the preparation room of the Royal Mausoleum. No one would disturb them during the bathing of the dead. _I've got time, and I've got to know. _"Mom, you've never told me about how you and Dad got together. Before Drakken's Mom tried to break me, she implied things about you. Have you never told me because you're…ashamed?"

Ann's brow furrowed. "Ashamed? Not one bit. Your father and I faced our own long odds, and keeping mum was part of the deal. But that's been blown to the Abyss now. Besides, you're mature enough to hear it.

"I was born in Uppertonia, like I've told you. But I come from the wrong side of the wall, and no one's ever used the word 'golden' to describe the streets I grew up on. As for my father, I don't even know his name. And I barely remember my mother. She left me at an Inn when I was very young. I think she sold me…I know they gave her money."

Kim had never seen her mother look so vulnerable. "Part of me wants to believe that she did it for me, that she knew my best chance would be with somebody else. The Innkeepers treated me well; I had food and a pallet to sleep on and a clean smock and a little ball of rags to play with. What more could a street urchin want?"

Her daughter kept her answer to herself.

"When I got a little older I carried bread and cheese to the tables. That was fun…until I began to fill out. Then they took my smock and replaced it with a very short dress and a pitcher of ale. The customers couldn't grab me, but pinching and swatting were allowed and if I spilled anything I had to pay for it. Once I dropped my pitcher and didn't eat for the next two days.

"There were older girls working there, of course. They would sit in men's laps and pour. They sold kisses. Most sold a lot more than that, and I knew that the Inn would expect that of me soon."

Being a girl of action, Kim could not understand. "Why didn't you just leave?"

"I had no family, no money, where would I have gone? They never gave me more than one dress at a time. I would have ended up at another place like it, or worse. And for all I had to put up with, the Inn was the only home I had ever known.

"Then one night I had to cross the floor to a table. I made it past three tables of drovers without spilling a drop. One of the people I served was a Virginity Inspector who moonlighted finding jobs for girls who didn't make the grade. She liked what saw. We talked, she went to the Innkeepers and I left with her the next morning."

Ann's blue eyes clouded. "The old lady hugged me before I left. I think she actually cared. I traveled to Go City, to a large place down by the harbor. There a bunch of us learned how to dance, alone or as part of a show. Even down by the docks you had to bare with flair to make it. By the time I was your age I had been dancing for three years.

"Don't feel sorry for me, I was having the time of my life. I had money, security, and friends. And knowing that they could watch and cheer and throw money at you but nothing more unless you wanted it, you can't describe that kind of power."

"Then how did you end up here?"

"One of the girls got lucky. Her sugar daddy died and left her a big fat strongbox. She wanted to go into business for herself. A few of us were up for something new, so Summer bought out our contracts…"

"Wait a minute. Summer?" Kim's jaw dropped. "Lady Gayle?"

"We called her Summer Storm or Gayle Force, depending on the season. Summer may not have been the best dancer, but she had a real head for business. Go City was a saturated market, and the startup costs for Uppertonia were just too high. But Middletonia was wide open. Summer bought a place between the shady part of town and the universities."

"And that's where you met Dad?"

Ann nodded. "The Tilting Ground. Middle shift. Lots of students came after classes and labs were over. He came in with Chen and Rhamesh and…Drew. He was so shy. That wasn't too unusual, but there was something about him. After a couple of months Summer asked me to go and sit at his table. I thought she had him pegged as another rich MESS student who'd be good for a couple of private dances before he went on to other pastures. Instead he asked me out."

_James, this is an expensive place. Are you sure?_

_Don't worry, money is no object. Now, let me do the talking._

_Good evening, sir, madam. Do you have a reservation?_

_Well, no, but…"_

_I'm afraid we are booked solid._

_You didn't make a reservation, James?_

_It's never been necessary and they cause such a fuss. My good man, I don't believe you understand…_

_Oh, I understand. If you want to wait on the off chance of a cancellation that is fine, but I need you to stand aside for our actual customers. If you will be so kind..._

_Bernard, is there a problem here? _

_Yes, sir. These people have no…_

_Reservation? Since when does he need one? You are new here, Bernard, so I'll overlook it this time. This way, Highness._

"You didn't know Dad was a Prince?" Despite her own experience with princes, Kim could not help but get caught up in the fairy tale aspect of her mother's story.

"It never came up." Ann said. "Summer knew. She always knew what a regular was worth. I have to admit I wasn't happy: I'd gone out with plenty of big shots before and I figured he wanted what they all did…"

"Uh, Mom, TMI."

"Sorry. Well, much to my surprise your father was not at all what I expected. He barely had the nerve to kiss my cheek that first night. It took another date before we touched lips, I wouldn't really call it a kiss, and some time before…"

Kim shuddered.

"You're getting quite the active imagination." Ann smiled. "We went out several times after that. He was a busy student, and as Crown Prince he did meet a variety of Princesses and other eligible young ladies. But he said that they meant nothing to him. After a year I began to believe him.

"Then it came time for the MESS Senior Dance. It was common knowledge that James had not named a date yet. So I began to think, maybe it would be me. Maybe this was where he made it official, that I wasn't the toy that court gossip had me pegged to be. Weeks went by and he didn't ask. I just thought he was being shy. I bought a dress; I even swapped shifts with Trish that night so that I had plenty of time to get ready."

"But he didn't show." Kim Krimson said quietly.

Even after years of love the hurt was still there. "Not even a note. The other girls were understanding, nobody said a word. I hung around the place, where else was I going to go? Old man Pennington came in. He looked so disappointed that he'd missed me dance that I gave him a private one. Old miser gave me two silver Nanas. The first one bought me a bottle of the strongest wine we had. When I had half of that in me I went to spend the second one.

_Ann! Wondered if I'd ever see you. Come on, sit down before you fall down._

_Thanks. Inky, you still open?_

_Most of my business is late night, before people get a chance to dry out. What can I do you for?_

_It's time, Inky. Stamp me._

_If that's what you want. Just take off…hey, you know, you don't have to take it all off._

_Call it a tip. And why shouldn't you get to see? Rest of Middletonia will sooner or later._

_Uh-oh, this does not sound good. Come on and lay down while I get everything ready. _

_Thanks. You want some?_

_No, it's hard enough to keep my hands steady. A little wash here. You want what I gave Trish? _

_That's a sacred symbol for her people, copying it just wouldn't be right. Summer's is too flowery and Wanda's tatt frankly scares me._

_It should. Anyone touches her down there without her wanting it… Hey, you're from Uppertonia, right? Why don't I do one of the tribal signs? Know which tribe you belong to? _

_If there's one for hopeless dreamers, that's it._

_Don't say that._

_It's true! I've been in this business long enough. Guys like him might call us over to the table, take us out, even be seen with us at night, but when it comes down to it we'll never be the ones they…_

_Take to the big dance?_

_It wasn't the Royal Cotillion, just a stupid school dance, a bunch of sorcerers trying to act like, like…_

_Don't cry! It breaks my…Here._

_Thanks. Out of wine. Guess I'll get some more when you're finished. I want to drink that spoiled little prince out of my mind! If he thinks I'm going to smile and just shake it for him after tonight…_

_Is that all you think he saw in you, a piece of meat?_

_No. It would be easy if he did. Nobody's ever treated me like he did before. Sure, I've known some nice guys, but it was clear from the start what they wanted. I let myself think he wanted more than that._

_Maybe he does. You know, it's probably not easy being a prince either. People want things from you all the time there too. He's always wondering, is that smile real? What are they up to? I hear they're raised to look at people that way. Getting though that takes a very special kind of girl. _

_If I'm that special then why didn't he take me? Or at least tell me why he didn't?_

_I'm not sure. Maybe he doesn't know. People often don't know why they do stupid things. If they did, maybe they wouldn't do them. One thing I am sure of; he's never been sorrier about anything in all his life._

_You, you think so?_

_I'm absolutely sure of it. There, I'm done. Want to look? You want to be sure before I set it into the skin. Let me help you up. _

_It's okay, I sober up fast._

_I'm going to uncover the mirror now, ready?_

_Inky, it's beautiful._

_Not nearly as beautiful as you. _

_What? Your reflection! James Timothy Possible! How did you? Where's Inky?_

_Look like Inky? I __am__ a sorcerer. Well, it'll be official after the finals results are released. As for Inky, he took a paid night off. _

_And you paid the girls to tell you where I had gone?_

_I paid all right…I got a triple tongue lashing! Wanda even suspended me head first over the maw of some Abyss spawn. They really care about you, you know._

_Nice when somebody does. I thought you did._

_I do. I was hoping that you realized that. Getting through to you hasn't been easy._

_A girl learns to be careful. But you got to me. I was thinking, we'd been out a few times, but I thought this was when you'd make it official._

_Ann, maybe I should explain something about the Senior Dance. When people see you with someone they assume you've enchanted them or created them or raised them. You're not supposed to pay for them to come with you, but if I had brought you…_

_Everyone would assume that I was a rental._

_I really should have told you, I got so wrapped up in the mystery of Drew's dates that I didn't even think about giving you the explanation. I'm sorry beyond belief. And while the dance is over, I would like to take you somewhere. Some place special: the Palace._

_The Palace!_

_I want you to meet Mother._

_James, do you have any idea what you're saying? _

_I'm saying that I love you. Look at your reflection again._

_The tattoo is changing. By the Abyss! Are you claiming me?_

_No more than I'm giving myself to you. See? They don't look alike, but they match. It's a wizard's mark, my vow to keep you with me forever. Once I set them, I can't let you go anymore than I can take out my own heart. If, if you don't want to, I understand, I can just…_

_Not another word about erasing it. Set it, James, and then let's see to some claiming._

"Mom! Did you have to put in that last bit?"

"I said it. We did it. Re…" The Queen stopped. "Your Nana was none too happy when he took me to the Palace after we got cleaned up. Woman knew what we had been up to, but with the wizard's mark she could not send me away, your father would have died. And she already had lost her oldest son to the life of the Free Riders. It was accept me, or say 'goodbye' to the dynasty.

"Still, there was no way that after the 'scandal' with Slim that she was going to allow the Crown Prince to marry a stripper. She bought the Tilting Ground, and our silence. Trish had been our announcer, so getting her into the Town Crier Guild was an easy thing for a Queen to do. And Wanda was already taking classes at WHAMMO, now she had a full ride as a full time student. Summer drove the hardest bargain, getting lands and title out of your Nana. I think the old woman approved.

"The whole town was in on it?" Kim could not believe what she was hearing.

"It was against the law to speak about the Tilting Ground. A whole back story was built up for me. It was only a little different from my actual life; the best lies are the smallest. I think that's where Drakken got his idea. He had seen how an entire kingdom full of people could lie to themselves. He just boosted things with magic.

"When I was washing your hair and cleaning your body, I kept thinking about our deception. That in so many ways we were the ones who put you on that horrible stone."

"Don't say that, Mom." She now had the strength to hug back. "It's cold in here, Mom, even with the furs. Can we go get some real clothes?"

"Sure. You can wear my slippers if you want."

"No, thanks. I just want to get out of here."

"Sure, Kimmie." The woman eased out of the seat and helped Kim wrap the silk around her. She still held the furs close for warmth against the chilled marble of the room. Her reawakened heart beat rapidly as the door opened.

The rest of her family waited in the room outside. Sad faces looked up, and went slack with shock.

"Dad, Twevils." The three rushed up to hug her. Everyone was crying.

"Kimmie-cub. I was afraid we had lost you forever." James held her close.

_You didn't use the imperial 'we', I haven't heard you do that than since Nana died. _"I'm back, Dad."

"Cousin!" Joss now joined the reunion. Her father and the new family beamed their joy while waiting for the chance to touch the fallen niece.

Finally King James released his daughter. "There's someone else you need to see."

RB!

Ronman blinked. He had been staring at the ceiling for hours now, listening to a city mourn. _I let her down. Couldn't beat her, couldn't save her. No wonder my people sent me away like they did. _

He did not respond when the BBG left. _Good, leave me alone. That's what I am now, will be forever._

New sounds rose to his room. Cheers. Soon the entire city rang with them. Ronman's sorrow deepened.

_Middletonia's not so different from us. We send our great heroes to the Honored Hall of Hissensteam with cheers. They must be taking her to her tomb._

The cheers grew louder and closer. _Is her tomb here? Would they bury me beside her? _

The commotion continued outside the room. Ronman did not even have the energy to turn over on his side. He did not look to the door when it opened.

"So not the greeting I was looking for."

The Actuarian did not lack for strength, only the will to move. When he looked to see those soft green eyes, it returned ten-fold.

"Abooyah!"

He sprang up, leapt from the bed, and promptly tangled his legs in the sheets. Arms flailing, he grabbed the feather mattress. It slid off of the rope lattice and he tumbled into the floor. Kim joined him there, laughing. They shared a long kiss. Vivian was silent at her side.

Ronman breathed in wonder. He touched her face. The wonderful soft green eyes closed and she sighed.

"Kim, I thought you were dead."

She gave a little shrug. "I was, but you know what Dad says. Anything is possible for a Possible."

_The next impossible deed is up to you._


	27. The Fifth Condition

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers:Sentinel103, Eddy13, Katsumara, CajunBear73, Comet Moon, bigherb81, MrDrP, JCS1966, Isamu, screaming phoenix, airwalker999, castrog, whitem, King in Yellow, Michael Howard and all the rest. Hope nobody got in Syndra's crosshairs.

Chapter 26: The Fifth Condition

**And so it was that Ronman mourned (and recovered) his lost Kimila. But it would take more than keen steel to keep her; it would require a sharp mind as well. Oh, snap. **

They sat in the tangle of bedding holding each other. Kim reveled in her revived senses. She pressed herself against Ronman's chest. (The Healers had stripped him down to his loin cloth. Yes!) He was washed and warm and strong. She could feel her own heart beat, her lungs filling with air, and her skin responding to his.

Kim could also feel his eyes on her. He had the most unbarbarian of grins on his face. His eyes filled her with a warmth she had thought she would never feel again. It was not Kim Krimson, or the Red Kim, or Kimila Possible, Warrior Princess of Middletonia that snuggled up next to Ronman, it was just Kim.

"I wish this could last forever." She sighed.

CRASH! _Who didn't see that coming?_

Ruthless stood in the doorway admiring the damage he had inflicted upon the iron hinges. The rest of the BBG burst into the room, sending him flying.

"We were good. We waited." Moniquity's smile could have been seen from the Abyss. "It's so good to have you back, Kim!"

Kim tore her eyes away from Ron. "It's good to be back, Mon. And thanks for what you did in the Cathedral."

"I know. The Dy owes me big. If you all feel that 'thanks' doesn't cut it I could come up with a bill. Don't worry, Ronman, I'd give Tara a cut."

"Ron, Plunder Buddy!" Felix laughed at his friend in the floor. "Before you throw a bunch of furs on the floor and do it 'home style' you ought to give the bed a try…it's great!" A sharp elbow from Moniquity brought Felix back to reality. "Oh, yeah. The duel."

Ronman looked deep into Kim's eyes. "Yeah, the duel. I'm thinking tomorrow night. What do you say, KK, a moonlight fight?"

"Ronnie, how romantic." Kim cooed.

"We think there are more things to be considered than the passions of youth." King James stood at the door with his Queen, Dean and Barbara and a variety of guards, nobles and advisors. "Don't forget, Kimmie-cub, you were stone cold dead not an hour ago. A few days to rest and recuperate would be advisable."

_I'd fight right now, so long as it was fair. _"Dad, I'm all right."

"There's more than health involved here." Lord Cook said. "According to the Code Duello, there can be no duels between allies for a period of not less than one week following the cessation of hostilities Your father the King has a lot to take care of in the next few days.'

"Well, can we still make the arrangements now?" Her new lease on life had given Kim additional powers over her tweak. Only now was it rising.

"We don't see why not." Queen Ann's words had the desired effect. "Only the duelists, their families and Seconds may remain."

Everyone else left. Ann's bodyguard, Big Mike, pulled the door to and held it shut.

King James began. "First, as to the time."

"One week!" Kim and Ronman shouted at the same time. Kim grinned. "Jinx! You owe me a cup of wine."

"Ah, man! I lost again!"

"One week from today it is." James made sure each Second was writing down the details. "Now, as to the place, we're thinking the courtyard of the Palace. It's small enough to preclude a public spectacle, but large enough to hold all the nobility and ambassadors who attend these sort of things."

Ronman spoke up. "Uh, Mr. Royal P, will there be any room for my people?"

James replied with magnanimous dignity. "Ronman, our ally Actuaria will receive ample seating."

"Thank you." Dean and Barbara replied for Actuaria.

The King nodded before he continued. "Weapons will be the standard; each person can bring what they normally wield. Additional weapons will be provided by the Royal Arsenal.

"Once we've concluded this settlement, the Principals will be allowed to communicate only through their Seconds. Public meetings are allowed, but in the interest of safety the Principals cannot come within arm's reach of each other.

"Before we go, Kimila, is there anything you have to say to Ronman?"

The Princess nodded gravely. "Ronnie, you have to win this time. If I beat you, I belong to Elisthar forever."

She looked at her parents. "Mom, Dad, you need to have things ready in case Ronnie doesn't do the impossible. I don't want everyone to see me all icky and gorchy."

James and Ann swallowed their tears and nodded.

Kim turned back to Ronman. They had never separated since she had sat down with him. Now their foreheads were touching. She looked into his eyes. "I love you, Ronnie."

They kissed as deeply as they knew Vivian could allow. When they parted for air Ronman whispered. "I love you, Kim. And don't worry. Nobody beats an Actuarian three times."

"Prove it." She chided.

The two sets of parents exchanged approving glances. James hated to break the children up, but part of being King is following protocol. "All right, everybody, it's time to get ready for tonight's victory feast. We'll see you all later. Come, Kimila."

Kim held onto Ronman's hand for as long as possible. Her fingers traced along his until at last there was nothing but air between them. The door pulled open and the Royal Ps left with Kim and Moniquity.

Ruthless rumbled. "There is a family with honor! I'll see to your armor, Ronman, it took quiet a beating."

"And I'll hone your sword." Barbara rubbed her son's head. "You need a new belt and a belt axe, too. I'll reinforce the haft with iron. That Vivian looks sharp."

Ronman agreed. "She's the picture of sharpitude."

"I hope you've been giving thought to what your Mother and I told you after the Battle of Flatbush." Dean said.

The look on their son's face sent thrills down to the base of their calculating Actuarian souls. "It's better than a thought: I have a plan."

RB!

Events proved the wisdom of the Code Duello's imposed delay. Both Kimila and Ronman needed rest. Kim found out that one just does not bounce back from death. As for Ronman, he plumbed new depths of clumsiness. The Healers had to fine tune their work on the boy before he could walk in (mostly) straight lines again.

There were other issues to clear up before a duel could take place. Mystic messengers arrived just in time to prevent the storming of Uppertonia. General Shegoix turned out to be the infamous Rhodiganian Camille Leon, who somehow eluded capture. Drakken's sorcery gave Uppertonian's King and rebellious nobles the scapegoat needed to settle things quietly.

Next there was a Lowertonian horde to buy off. The BBG made the supreme sacrifice, bidding a tearful goodbye to a wagon load of treasure as it rumbled south.

On a brighter note, there were also celebrations to attend. The Code forbade any direct communication between the duelists/would-be lovers, but nothing could stop the longing gazes, the sly winks or the blown kisses. At the end of one party Ronman sought out Queen Ann.

"Majesty." Ronman bowed.

"So polite." Ann smiled. "I liked it better when you thought I was Kimmie's older sister."

Ronman blushed at the memory. "I can tell where KK gets the 'all that' from. Where were the Twevils?"

"Working on something they found under the Palace."

"You sure that's safe? Drakken had a lot of nasty stuff down there."

"Their father has triple-checked all the Palace's protective spells, and added new wards against explosions. Now, Ronnie, what can I do for you?"

"It's about the duel." Ronman rubbed the back of his neck. "I have a question and you seem to be up on all the ruleage."

"Shouldn't this go through the Seconds?"

"If I did that, then she'd know. Besides, it's a theoreputable…theodreckicle…ahh…'

"Do you mean, 'theoretical'?" Ann's brow arched quizzically. "Why, barbarian, we think you've spent too much time at Court, using Royal Tutor words like that. Are you planning to cheat?"

The boy jolted at the word. "Cheat? Nooo! Against Kim? Noooo. I mean, I'd…no! But I could use an advantage; something to offset Vivian and Kim's new icitude."

Ann sighed, knowing what the odds were for Ronman what was at stake for her daughter. She looked around make sure no one else could hear. "What's your plan?"

RB!

Ronman took a deep breath. The sun had just sunk behind the Palace walls, signaling the end of the last pre-duel practice. Ruthless gathered the weapons up, while always on the lookout for trouble. Ronman saluted his sparring partner. Captain Barkan returned the gesture.

"Thanks for the help, Captain."

The brawny man nodded to the Actuarian. "My pleasure. Glad I was able to get back from Uppertonia in time for this."

"So what do you think of Ronman's chances?" the NSTMR asked.

Barkane pulled his helmet off. "I'll be direct with you. You're a skilled fighter, Ronman. Along with speed and strength, your melting brown eyes indicate a serenity that all truly great warriors possess."

Boy and rodent exchanged looks. Ruthless spoke first. "As nice as it is to know that Ronman is at peace with his inner warrior, what chance do you think he has tomorrow?"

"You're Actuarians, you do the math. I helped train Kimila. I've fought alongside her many times and once or twice against her. You don't stand a chance, even if you've shown me only half of what you've got."

The blond boy gulped. "That was direct."

The Middletonian shook his head. "I'm not the kind to pour honey over moldy bread. And it's a pity; as much as I hate the thought of you marching under the other side's banner, you'd be good for her. But it would take a god or a mythic hero or treachery to beat her."

Ronman gave Barkane a sly look. "What about a plan?"

RB!

Meanwhile, in a cellar of the Palace, another practice ended. Kim struck a spinning axe with Vivian. Ice spread from Kim's feet, allowing her to slide under a double row of jabbing spears. She grabbed the last one, using her momentum to pull her atop the mechanism holding the weapons. Vivian reduced it to kindling. Two halberds twirled ahead. Kim charged, at the last moment launching into a twisting, spinning leap that carried her over the blades and onto the ledge beyond. The Red Kim landed on her feet, arms raised in triumph. Below on the practice floor the machines lay; one-third of them shattered another third frozen solid and the last third spinning impotently.

Kim lowered her arms and head. Her soul sword dimmed and the familiar form of Vivian stood beside her.

"How did I do?" Kim asked bleakly.

Vivian's voice echoed Kim's despair. _*Magnificent. Perfect. You reduced the Great Ocnor's Deathomatic to a feeble joke. It's as though you overcame fifty expert fighters.*_

"And tomorrow it's just Ronnie." Kim swallowed hard. "Viv, how will he win?"

_*I don't know. You would not let him win even if you could. What does Moniquity call it? Your essential Kimilaness. And I am bound to aid you to the best of my ability. It would take a miracle for him to win; and how often to those happen?*_

Kim gave Vivian a wry smile. "I was dead a few days ago. And the Great Chuck told me that True Love and true heroes always find a way."

The frost retreated from Vivian's face. The ghost raised an empty hand in imitation of a toast. *_To losing.*_

Kim hefted her own imaginary goblet. "To losing."

RB!

The next morning and afternoon passed slowly for the boy from the barbaric north. Ronman adjusted his armor yet again. The repaired brigandine was all black now, a perfect match for his new belt. His new scabbard and boots were also all black. Duels are formal occasions, after all.

At the moment his mother was checking his sword blade. "I sharpened it as much as I dare. It will be quick, so be careful. You want to disarm her, not de-arm her."

"I will, Mom." Ronman took the sword. Before putting it in the scabbard he read the new runes running along the cross hilts.

**Suffer no guilt, ye who wield this. Love, Mom.**

"Here's your belt axe." Dean handed Ronman his secondary weapon. "If you can catch her blade with yours and this, you have a chance of pulling it out of her hands."

Barbara handed Ronman his horned helmet. "And don't forget your plan. Remember, timing is everything: rush it and you could lose."

"Don't worry, Mom, Dad." Ronman put his helmet on. "I'm chauncey."

RB!

Queen Ann made her way up the stairs to the finest room in the East Tower. Even before she reached the door she could hear the chaos resulting when a girl is trying to get ready at the last minute. She suppressed a smile.

Her knock was greeted with sounds of things being thrown around. Kim shouted. "Keep looking, Mon!"

The door opened. Kim wore her black gambeson, crimson boots and a frazzled expression. "Mom! It's time?"

"Almost."

Her daughter looked hopeful. "Maybe you can help. Do you know where my little black habergeon is? I know I had it in my war chest in the Royal Carriage."

"Sorry, Kimmie. It may have been left in the Carriage before the Battle of Flatbush. If it was, it's slag now."

"But everything else is here." Kim moaned. "Now what do I wear?"

"The Armory has plenty of habergeons. I'm sure one would fit, dear."

Kim shook her head. "I don't have time to try on a hundred suits of armor. And that was a Coco original."

"We found your old armor in Shegoix's Tower." The Queen held up the rune covered steel bracelet.

"So not wearing that! I guess it's the 'Red Kim' look. Hey, Mon, forget the LBH, we're going with the mail bikini." The door closed again. "We'll be right out, Mom."

Ann stood in the stairway. Now she was smiling.

RB!

Ronman of Actuaria, son of Dean and Barbara of the Stoppable Clan of the Fearless Ferret Tribe and Ruthless, son of, you know, stood in west antechamber of the Palace, waiting for the door to open to the Courtyard and destiny. The boy and rodent went over the last moment adjustments to armor and plans.

"That buckler may come in handy." Ruthless looked at the small shield on Ronman's left hand. "Be sure to keep it in its present position until the fight begins."

The boy shifted his feet in response. "No need to remind me, Little Buddy. Just hope it helps."

"It is in keeping with your plan, Ronman. And with Vivian involved it may be crucial to your survival, not to mention your…"

"Let's not talk about it." Ronman hissed as the doors opened. Captain Barkane led a company of Royal Guardsmen into the antechamber. The soldiers lined both sides and raised their weapons in salute.

Barkane nodded curtly. "Good luck, barbarian. Remember, all great commanders have one thing in common: the ability to stick to a good plan."

The Actuarians marched out into the sunlight and color of the Courtyard. Respectful silence greeted them. Ruthless moved with the usual clanking of his armor. The Breeches Bandit was dressed entirely in black, moving silently but for an odd grinding sound.

Ronman did not hear that. All he heard was his heart pounding when he saw Kimila emerge with Moniquity from the other side of the Courtyard. She wore her crimson cloak. A long boot showed with each step. The corner of his lip pulled up. Ruthless' whiskers twitched.

The Duelists and their Seconds met at the center of the Courtyard. They turned smartly on their heels and strode up to the Royal Box. Hundreds of eyes followed the spectacle with rapt attention. Every Middletonian who could command or wheedle a seat was there. Slim and his Free Riders were also well represented. And adding a barbaric splash to the proceedings were plenty of Actuarians. In accordance to Dean and Barbara's request they were seated among the Middletonians. The allies seemed happily intermixed, none more so than Mark Acher, who sat with his sons one row down from the Lady Summer Gayle, Trish Lombowski and Wanda Wong. Mark's scroll case contained the only surviving copy of the Lapapolooza Weekend Program Guide to be 'signed' by all four divas. (Actually, there was one more, in the Abyss.)

Once again Kim and Ronman stood before the King and Queen to swear their troth. When all oaths were taken Kimila let Moniquity take off her crimson cloak to reveal the Red Kim. The court gasped.

King James frowned. "I don't see why she wouldn't wear the armor I made for her."

"She hasn't worn it in almost two years. And her habergeon was lost on the march. You want to be comfortable in what you fight in." His Queen replied.

"I just wish she wasn't so comfortable in armor modeled after a stripper's outfit…no offense, dear."

"None taken." Ann ran her fingers along the back of James' hand. "Though if you want to you can make it up to me later I'm interested."

Had he not know how much rode on the duel, Ann's last comment would have had him completely flustered. Even her best effort could not ease his tension. He swallowed at the sight of his daughter awaiting his command. Already her hair glittered with frost.

"Make ready!" he ordered.

The young duelists drew swords and faced each other. Spectators leaned forward, anxious for the King's command.

"Begin!"

The two circled each other warily. Kim dropped into the defensive crouch of the Mongoose School. Its quick dodges and sudden counterattacks were her best chance to win without hurting her opponent. She watched Ronman take a similar crouch, and lift his buckler from his crotch. Her eyes drifted and he attacked.

His lunge was easily deflected. The next attack was a leer. "I was expecting more armor and less skin."

"So not the tactic to use this time. And as for your outfit, I hear they're all the rage in Rhodigan, but I doubt that even their etchings are that…detailed."

"How would you know?" he gibed.

"Hello! Twin little brothers. I got a double dose of the nudist phase." She slashed out. He ducked under Vivian and smiled.

"Well, I promise you, KK. The drawing isn't even close to life sized."

"I know that! From what I've seen you've got to be…" Heat rose to her cheeks, driving back icy tendrils that were trying to spread from her hair.

Ronman saw his chance. He came forward with an overhead strike. When Kim blocked it he dropped the buckler and tried to grab her sword arm with his left hand. Instead of flesh his hand closed on empty air. Vivian slid down his blade and under his guard.

Only panther-quick reflexes saved Ronman from Kim Krimson's slashing attack. Vivian tore through the outer leather of his brigandine. The soul sword left frost on the underlying metal plates. The audience held its collective breath when until it saw that the hand Ronman pulled away from the gash was clean.

Kim's breath did not stop. Mist escaped past her blue lips. Soft green eyes had become pale blue and cold. Her skin was covered in living ice.

The barbarian hurriedly pulled out his belt axe. He crouched lower. For the moment all thoughts of attack were tossed aside. _Got to buy time. _

His opponent's eyes glittered. "You should have kept the buckler." Even her voice sent chills down Ronman's spine.

"ELITSHAR!" The Battle Maid charged, wielding Vivian with both hands. Ronman caught her blade with his sword and belt axe. He started to lock her weapon with his when her foot shot out. Only the metal cod piece saved Ronman from a career ending injury.

At their special bench the Seconds winced. Ruthless shuddered. "Admittedly that was legal. But it was utterly uncalled for."

All Moniquity could do was nod. _Girl, what's gotten into you?_

The answer came in the ice that spread from the Red Kim's feet. Ronman landed on it and slid across the surface until he crashed into the Seconds' box.

"Ronman, are you all right?" Ruthless asked.

"Better than the last time." The boy had just replied when Kim reached him. Splinters flew when she attacked. Ronman rolled away on the ice. Kim turned to pursue, leaving behind a ruined box, its occupants cowering behind shields they had brought for the duelists.

In the stands a Middletonian shook his head in sympathy. "The poor boy hasn't a chance now. It's impossible to stand on that ice."

Another nearby spectator smiled within her cowl.

Ronman rolled onto his feet. The non-Actuarians gasped in surprise when the boy easily moved over the ice. Even with the spikes his mother had added to his boots, only a child of the frozen north could have walked so confidently over the thick ice beneath his feet.

_Not yet. Stick with the plan. _

Again the Red Kim charged. He stepped back and her downward swing missed. Her reverse swing sliced a horn from his helmet. Actuarian balance and reflexes were tested to the limit during his fighting retreat.

"Don't you understand?" Kim's shout was equal parts boastful and sorrowful. "You can't defeat me…NO ONE can defeat me!"

He dropped the belt axe and gripped his sword with both hands. Her sword came down. Their blades crossed. The combatants pressed forward, each seeking advantage. Close for the first time in a week, they looked into each other's eyes. Frost melted from her face, green returned to her eyes. Then he saw something else.

_Great Shrom…now!_

Without letting up his pressure, Ronman slowly turned his sword until it was the flat and not the edge that was pressing against his lovely opponent's blade.

Kim gave her head a small shake. "You won't gain any leverage that way."

"I'm not thinking leverage," he grunted, "I'm thinking about safety."

"Safety?" she puzzled as she pushed back.

"Yes. There are so few perfect pairs of breasts in the world; it would tank to damage yours."

"Perfect?" her face lit up. "Oh, Ronnie, that's so sweet! I…" The smile was replaced by a snarl. "Ronman, my eyes are up here."

He looked up for half a heartbeat. "You peeked first."

"Wha…" she looked down. The Red(faced) Kim pushed away from Ronman. Her right hand held Vivian out while the other worked feverishly to correct a major wardrobe malfunction. She only needed a few seconds.

Ronman struck with tigerish speed. Gripping his sword with both hands, he swung mightily. Kim's grip on Vivian loosened. Before she could react he swung the other way. Her already numbed hand could not hold on to the soul sword. Vivian flew out of her hand. She reached for it but again Ronman was too fast. Vivian sailed across the Courtyard and embedded herself into the stone of the north entrance.

The boy stepped between Kim and access to her weapon. His sword tip was just under her invisible scar. She was at a hopeless disadvantage. Ronman took a deep breath; his voice was husky, anything but cocky.

"Kimila, my love, do you yield?"

Hundreds of people leaned forward, straining to hear her answer.

For the first time in a long time Kim was out of breath while still alive. Things had looked so bleak, and now…

She brought her right arm up slowly, hand upward, palm outward. It was the universally recognized request for quarter. Full lips, once again red, parted so that she could speak the words. Both sets of parents clasped hands in joy.

Then the air began to swirl around Kim's palm. It flashed blue, sending a bolt of power into Ronman's chest. The boy flew across the Courtyard. He crashed into the stone below Vivian and slid down, his chest covered in ice.

Green eyes looked aghast at the smoldering right hand. They narrowed when she looked up at the glowing soul sword. She stormed across the Courtyard. Only Vivian could hear the mental tirade.

_You treacherous length of cold-hearted steel! Why didn't you tell me I could do that?_

Vivian's voice was placating, and seemingly muffled by the stone. _*I didn't know you could. You discover your powers as you come into them. If I had told you about the ice blast you would have had to try it at the beginning of the fight.*_

_At least you could have told me before the fight with Shegoix! I might have survived then instead of being in this sitch!_

_*It would have done you no good. The blast that felled Ronman would not have affected an enraged demigoddess. You needed all your powers for defense against her green fire.*_

The Warrior Princess shuddered at the thought of Shegoix's curse. But Kim would not go back on her oath to Elisthar.

The crowd groaned when she pulled her sword from the stone. A crimson boot settled on the ice covered chest. Vivian's tip touched the gash in Ronman's brigandine. There was not the slightest hint of triumph in Kim's voice.

"Ronman, my love, do you yield?"

The freckled face looked pained. Ice cracked and the boy finally could draw a deep breath. He looked up at her, the brown eyes were unbeaten. The walls rang with his shout.

"NOW!"

"Shrom, the odds look good!" From dozens of places Actuarians drew swords or daggers. Shocked Middletonians found themselves on the wrong end of a totally unexpected fight. Actually there was no fight. Every Middletonian of rank or prowess was at the mercy of a barbarian. For their part the Free Riders had their weapons out, but with their Head Honcho, his wife and daughter hostages they dared not move.

Kim did move. She ran to the middle of the Courtyard. "Mom! Dad! Twevils!"

"We're all right, Kimmie." Queen Ann was calm despite having Barbara's razor sharp dagger at her ear. "Keep calm; we'll work this all out."

King James was either too stunned or too angry for words. Dean used his free hand to remove the crown from James' head and throw it to his own son. It landed in Ronman's hands, covered in ice thanks to a blast from Kim. He removed his battered helmet and put it on. "Who knew royal bling would be so cold?"

Ruthless gave the acclamation. "Hail, Ronman, by his own hand King of Middletonia!"

"Hail, Ronman! Long live the King!" the Actuarians shouted.

The western entrance swung open at the shout. Captain Barkane rushed in with his guardsmen. They stopped at a rallying Kim.

"Captain Barkane, thank Elisthar! Let's…"

"Orders, Majesty?" the Captain was not looking to the Royal Box, but to the boy with the gold crown resting on his large ears. The barbarian actually sounded kingly when he pointed at Kim and shouted.

"Seize her!"

Kim turned as a dozen men sprang. Even if she had been willing to kill her own people she lacked the room to wield Vivian. Instead there was a blinding flash. Barkane himself was out of range but two dozen of his men now resembled statues after a winter storm. They were covered in ice and snow, unable to move. But two had Kim by her legs. Another had her wrapped up in his arms, pinning hers to her sides. One last set of hands held her sword arm at the wrist. No amount of struggle availed her.

Ronman brushed the ice off of his chest and walked over. His boots crunched over the thickening ice. His lopsided smile infuriated Kim as nothing ever had before. It was far worse than seeing the stolen crown upon his head.

She struggled and spat. "Usurper! And to think I loved you! This is going to be the shortest reign on record. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The new King stopped just outside the radius of her ice blast. He pointed his sword at her and said two words.

"I win."

The words were not shouted, but they still carried to every corner of the Courtyard. They brought smiles to some, frowns to others, and rage to at least one cowled figure. Kim shared the sentiment. "You won? What are you talking about? You don't win unless I yield, and it's supposed to be a fair fight. You CHEATED!"

Captain Barkane spoke up. "Negative. He improvised, he adapted, he overcame. The boy used his initiative to change the conditions of the test and complete the impossible task. He deserves a commendation for original thinking."

"You had the Soul Sword, the magic strength, and the whole Ice Queen vibe going, where's the fairness in that?" Ronman asked.

Kim was taken aback for a moment. "Those things are intrinsic to me. They're what I am!"

"And I am what I is…the KING!" Ronman spread his arms. "I saw what had to be done; I gave the orders and claimed the victory!"

Dean stepped away from James. Kim's father looked thoughtful. "Actually he does have a point, Kimmie-cub. His actions do fall within the parameters of Royal behavior."

"But, but he…" Kim stammered.

"Did what a King does." Ann said.

"If so, then what he did is legal and if it's legal…" The color returned to Kim's face. "I yield. I YEILD!"

The Actuarian boy ran to her. He put his hands on her cheeks. Her lips parted as he bent in to kiss her.

*HOLD!* the woman's voice dripped with ice and venom. Elisthar, Goddess of Universal Vengeance, threw off her cloak and stormed onto the Courtyard.

*NO YOU DON'T, MORTAL! I WAS MORE THAN FAIR; I LET DAD BRING HER BACK BECAUSE IF I HADN'T I WOULD HAVE BECOME KNOWN AS THE GODDESS WHO STOOD AGAINST TRUE LOVE. IF THAT EVER HAPPENS, YOU BETTER CHANGE YOUR ADDRESS TO THE ABYSS BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE THE SKALDS WILL HOUND YOU TO. SHE DEFEATED HIM, AND NO LEGALISMS WILL DENY ME MY PRIZE THIS TIME!*

Another person stood up in the stands. Habeas Alibi smoothed his tunic before speaking. *THIS ISN'T ABOUT LEGALITIES BUT CUSTOMS. MONARCHS TEND TO TAKE THE CREDIT FOR THEIR SUBJECTS' ACCOMPLISHMENTS. NOWHERE IS THAT MORE COMMON THAN IN MATTERS MARTIAL; EVEN THE GODS HAVE THIS TRAIT.*

Heads nodded in the crowd. Kim recognized the denizens of Valhalla. (It was the duel of the Age, how could they miss it?) Somehow no one had noticed the stands seating half again as many people.

An icy eye blazed with anger. *DON'T GO SPLITTING HAIRS WITH ME! AND HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF A GOD? YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A WHISPERING SPIRIT…YOU'RE A TEMPTER!*

*I GUESS YOU DIDN'T READ THE MEMO LAST CENTURY. I WAS DEIFIED BY A WELL ESTABLISHED PANTHEON OF THE FAR EAST. MY TITLE HERE IS IN KEEPING WITH THE FULL FAITH AND CREDIT CLAUSE IN THE PAN-PANTHEON ACCORD. SO YES, I AM A GOD.*

The DA reached into the pouch at his side and drew something out. He offered it to Elisthar. *HAVE A MUFFIN, MUFFIN.*

Her scowl faded when Elisthar sniffed the rich, dark baked good in his hand. *SMELLS WONDERFUL, WHAT'S IN IT?*

*MY PAYMENT FOR ABRITRATING A DISPUTE BETWEEN A COUPLE OF GODS ACROSS THE WESTERN SEA. DON'T WORRY, THE MUFFIN'S ALL NATURAL: NO MAGICAL ENHANCEMENTS.*

Curiosity overcame caution. One bite and Elisthar sighed. *OH, THAT IS DIVINE!*

There was another revelation. A man wearing a broad brimmed hat stood up from amongst the Free Riders, who removed their own out of respect. The Great Chuck moved easily through them.

***HEY, GENE, TEX, ROY, REX, AND HOW'S IT GOING, DURANGO? YOU GUYS KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK. NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME, I'VE GOT TO SEE MY DAUGHTER.***

The Head of the Norris Pantheon sprang easily over the rail and onto the Courtyard. He ambled toward its center, thumbs thrust into his belt. When it reached the first frozen soldier his foot shot out in a perfect roundhouse kick. The ice covering the Princess and the guardsmen shattered and they all stood up free and warm and dry.

***I'VE STILL GOT IT**.* The Great Chuck grinned. Before he had a chance to talk, Elisthar spoke around a mouthful of chocolaty goodness.

*DAD, SHE'S MINE.*

The God of Two-Fisted Justice smiled and gently replied. ***I'M NOT TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO, ELLE; I'M JUST ASKING YOU TO THINK. THE BOY'S RIGHT. HE DID JUST WHAT A KING DOES, WHAT ****WE**** DO: HE USED OTHERS TO ACHIEVE HIS ENDS. AND DON'T FORGET, HE DID THAT AFTER HE ALMOST DID THE IMPOSSIBLE ON HIS OWN.***

He set an invincible hand on Kim's shoulder. ***AND LOOK AT ALL THE GOOD YOUR BATTLE MAID HAS DONE. SHE KEPT HER PEOPLE'S HOPE ALIVE THROUG SOME VERY DARK DAYS. SHE LED THEM INTO BATTLE AGAINST CRUSHING ODDS. AND IN THE END SHE WAS WILLING TO SACRIFICE EVERYTHING, EVEN LOVE, TO SAVE HER PEOPLE.***

Those people cheered their Princess, whose cheeks reddened. "It's what I do."

The Great Chuck smiled at Kim, and then at his own daughter. ***IT'S WHAT ALL YOUR GIRLS DO, ELLE. YOU FIND THEM ACROSS CONTINENTS, ACROSS THE CENTURIES. STRONG, BRAVE GIRLS WHO DO SO MUCH MORE THAN JUST GAIN VENGEANCE.***

Elisthar rolled her one eye. *DAD, NOT ANOTHER RECRUITING SPEECH.*

***HONEY, THERE ARE PLENTY OF GODS AND GODDESSES OF VENGEANCE, THERE CAN NEVER BE ENOUGH GODS AND GODDESSES OF JUSTICE**.*

*I'LL THINK ABOUT IT, DAD.* Elisthar licked the chocolate from her fingers. *AND MAYBE I SEE YOUR POINT. KIMILA POSSIBLE, YOU'RE FREED FROM YOUR OATH.*

Middletonia's Royal Courtyard shook from the cheers. Kim threw herself into Ronman's arms. Their kiss exceeded that of any of the last century in its perfection.

The (for now) Goddess of Vengeance looked at her father. *SO IS THAT WHAT ALL OF THIS WAS ABOUT, GETTING THOSE TWO TOGETHER?*

***NO. WE DON'T CONTROL TRUE LOVE ANY MORE THAN THEY DO. BUT I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT I'VE MANIPULATED THINGS EVERY NOW AND THEN. REMEMBER BACK WHEN THE GIANTS STOLE YOUR DOLLY**?*

*DOLLY?* Real tears welled up in Elisthar's eye.

***I SAW THEM RUNNING OFF WITH IT. I COULD HAVE STOPPED THEM, BUT I THOUGHT THAT A QUEST TO JOTENHEIM WOULD HELP YOU AND SHROM PATCH THINGS UP. HE NEVER TOLD YOU, BUT HE FELT AWFUL ABOUT NOT KEEPING YOUR DOLLY OUT OF THE LAVA WHEN THAT FIRE GIANT THREW HIM INTO THE VOLCANO.***

*MAYBE HE ISN'T A TOTAL JERK.* the goddess looked around. *WHERE IS SHELDROM? I KNOW HE'S GOT TO BE HERE.*

***HE'S WITH YOUR MOTHER**.* her father smiled. ***SHE'S MAKING SURE HE DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING WRONG.***

The Divine Mother sat with her son in the Free Rider Section. She had one hand over Shrom's mouth. She waved with the other one. *HI, HONEY.*

Elisthar waved back. *YOU'VE WON, THAT'S IT THEN. BYE, DAD.*

***BYE, HONEY. YOUR MOM AND I HAVE TO STOP AT THE STORE ON THE WAY HOME. I NEED ANOTHER PILLOW TO GO UNDER MY AXE**.*

The Great Chuck nodded to the parents in the Royal Box. ***THEY'RE GOOD KIDS**, **AND WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE THE GRANDKIDS**.* Then he pulled on the brim of his hat and he was gone.

Elisthar cast Habeas Alibi a sidelong glance. *WHAT ARE YOU HANGING AROUND FOR? THERE'S NOTHING ELSE BILLABLE FOR YOU TO DO.*

*ACTUALLY I'M NOT HERE ON BUSINESS.* For once the God of Legalese seemed at a loss for words. *IT'S JUST THAT I HAVE STANDING RESERVATIONS AT THIS RESTAUARANT AT THE END OF THE UNIVERSE. THE FOOD'S GREAT AND THEY PUT ON A SHOW YOU JUST CAN'T SEE ANYWHERE AND ANYWHEN ELSE. I WAS KIND OF WONDERING, IF YOU'RE NOT TOO BUSY TONIGHT.*

The frosty face actually smiled. *YOU'VE GOT NERVE, I'LL GIVE YOU THAT. LET ME FINISH UP HERE AND GO GET READY.*

*I'LL BE AT VALHALLA IN AN HOUR!*

*HABEAS, I'VE GOT TWO WORDS FOR YOU: CHASTITY BELT.*

The young god deflated ever so slightly. *I CAN BE AS RESPECTFUL AS THE NEXT GOD.*

*YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND.* Elisthar put her hands on her hips and looked Habeas up and down. *RESPECT MY CHASTITY TOO MUCH AND I'LL BELT YOU.*

Habeas' face lit up. *IN THAT CASE MAKE IT TWO HOURS; I'VE GOT TO GO GET MORE CHOCOLATE!*

Once he was gone Elisthar turned to Kim. *TECHNICALLY YOU'RE STILL MINE UNTIL YOU'VE SETTLED ACCOUNTS WITH THE BOY. HOWEVER, YOU DON'T NEED EVEN ONE EYE TO SEE THAT HAPPENING TONIGHT.*

The Middletonian Princess and Actuarian Warrior turned ten shades of red.

*FARE WELL, KIMILA POSSIBLE. NOW I MUST SETTLE ACCOUNTS.*

The goddess' voice grew as hard and as cold as any steel. *VIVIAN!*

The sword in Kim's hand dimmed and the Vivisectrix appeared before Elisthar. Her translucent face betrayed no fear.

*MANY A BATTLE MAID HAS FAILED TO ACHIEVE HER VENGEANCE, BUT THAT HAS ALWAYS BEEN DUE TO THE GREAT ODDS THEY'VE FACED. YOU, VIVIAN, YOU FAILED ME. NO TEAR HAS EVER FAILED TO SECURE HER CHARGE. YOU COST ME SHE WHO WOULD HAVE BEEN MY GREATEST TEAR. DEPART FROM ME FOREVER!*

A cold wind enveloped the Boulderian. Vivian stiffened, only her hair moved. She grew even less substantial and then vanished altogether.

"Vivian." Kim mourned. The brilliant sword was gone, replaced by a hilt of tarnished silver and corroded copper holding a rusty, pitted blade. Ronman reached out to touch his old tormentor and the upper half crumbled away. Green eyes burned, but the divine object of their anger was gone.

The southern doors shattered under a mighty blow. People screamed as a huge figure entered the Courtyard. Warriors raised weapons and sorcerers readied spells only to stop when the Twevils ran out to stand between them and the monster.

"Stop!" Tim yelled. "It's ours."

King James was not convinced. "Kimmie told us about that thing. It's Drakken's!"

"Not anymore." Jim countered. "We found him in the rubble under the Palace."

"Golems are dangerous, boys." Slim growled.

"It's not a golem, he's a machine." Tim said excitedly. "After we took out all of Drakken's control charms we fixed him."

Jim nodded. "We control him now. He was coming to help."

Kim walked past Barkane and his men. Ronman followed her up to the giant.

"Oliver." She said quietly. "Your name is Oliver."

The Twevils had replaced the ancient ivory with pink marble. Oliver's eyes were citrine set in alabaster. Spun brass made up his hair. He was not unappealing for a monster. Gears spun as he looked at the sword in Kim's hand. She offered it to him. Massive hands gently lifted it to his chest.

He no longer held a ruined sword but a woman's body. Vivian wore her silvered armor. Her body was whole. Kim did not have to look to know that the wound beneath Vivian's left breast was gone. Oliver touched his head to his maker's in a very human gesture. Then he straightened up and walked out of the western gate along the Road of Kings.

"Where is he taking her?" Ronman asked.

Kim found she had to swallow before she could answer.

"To Old Boulder."


	28. Kim the Conqueror

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney.

My thanks to the reviewers: Katsumara, Comet Moon, MrDrP, King in Yellow, Isamu, ariwalker999, Eddy13, Classic Cowboy, CajunBear73, Sentinel103, screaming phoenix, castrog, bigherb81, JCS1066, whitem, Michael Howard, DJ-fan, soulman3 and all the others who knew when it was time to throw the odds over and go with the heart.

Chapter 27: Kim the Conqueror

_And the Ronman would wear the jeweled crown of Middletonia upon a troubled brow (The blasted thing was too small. And it was against policy to resize it.)_

…_From the Comet Moon Chronicles_

**My lord's victory was not foreordained. It required an unprecedented convergence of cunning strategy, undaunted courage, public opinion and chocolate. Of course, before they could think of more pleasant things, there was one last obstacle.**

They turned to the Royal Box. Kim whispered. "Ronnie, let me…"

"No, KK I started this, I'll finish it."

Hand in hand they walked up to the Possibles. One thought echoed in Ronman's mind. _Abyss deep, Ronman._

By the look on his face; James may well have been recalling the necessary phrasing for the sending spell. He said nothing when Ronman stopped before the Box. The boy took a deep breath.

"I, Ronman of Actuaria, by my own hand King of Middletonia, do hereby abdicate the throne in favor of the rightful born James Possible."

The boy handed the King his crown. Once James placed it upon his head the Middletonian nobility took up the cry.

"Hail, James Possible! Long live the King!"

The re-re-crowned King raised his hands for silence. "We thank you. As our first action, we declare a general amnesty for all those who conspired, led or participated in this most recent action against us. Let all be forgiven in the spirit of reconciliation."

The words brought a smattering of applause. James nodded politely before he continued. "As for the marriage of our daughter, the Warrior Princess Kimila, to Ronman of Actuaria, that day is…postponed indefinitely."

"What?!" Kim gasped.

Her father tried to placate her. "Kimmie-cub, yours is more than just a case of two young people. You're the Crown Princess of the Realm; your marriage is an affair of state. We must send invitations to the crowned heads of all nations we have dealings with, including those of both the Far East and the Far South. Etiquette requires them to come, send a representative or their regrets within a year.'

"A YEAR?" Princess Tweaky made a royal return. "At the Summer Castle we were ready to go that night if I had lost the duel."

Her mother had the answer. "One can be more flexible when in exile. We're afraid your father's right regarding form. And there's much more to it than that. We talked about it last night: we know how you feel about each other, but you've had so little time together."

"We've had enough to know that we love each other!" the Warrior Princess countered.

"But how well do you know him?" her father asked. "You must admit, his overthrowing the kingdom is cause for some concern."

"He did it for me!" Kim fairly shouted.

"Would it help if I promised to never do it again?" Ronman asked.

"No, given what all that's happened, we may not want to bind your hands." King James answered wryly.

Queen Ann smiled at her daughter. "This is a big step for you, dear. Before you marry, you should make sure you are compatible in all ways."

"Mom, I technically still belong to Elisthar until…" the pique died down in Kim. "When you say 'in all ways' do you mean in 'all' ways?"

Her mother raised a bemused brow. "Kimmie, what part of 'all' are you having trouble with?"

Ronman raised his hand. "I'm having all kinds of trouble here. For Kim to be free we need to ah…um…you know. But if we don't get married…"

Before Ann could utter another word Kim spoke. "I'll handle this, Mom."

She cupped her hands around Ronman's ear and whispered sweet implications regarding what 'all' meant. His knees almost buckled when she nibbled on his ear. Only those close by could hear him whisper.

"Coolio."

Their Seconds stood behind them. From his vantage point Ruthless could tell Moniquity exactly what was going on. "The ear lobe: a classic weak point on the Actuarian male."

"Thanks, I'll remember that." The Queen of Thieves and RBF replied. "They aren't the only ones looking forward to a big night."

They fell silent when the King spoke again. "Let us repair to the Post-Duel Feast!"

RB!

Even with the defeat of a Possible no one could doubt the Post Duel Feast was the most joyous and raucous celebration following Drakken's defeat. As one of their own had won this day, the Actuarians gave themselves full rein. Middletonians greatly enjoyed the table dancing and axe throwing. Fortunately, they stopped the fire juggling before it really took off.

And the cloud that had hung over the Royals was gone. No tension emanated from King, Queen or Warrior Princess. King James drank and talked like the Prince of happy memories, seated with his MESS friends, his Queen at his side and sometimes in his lap. Middletonians were civilized, not dead from the waist down; they cheered mightily whenever the Royal Ps kissed.

The Free Riders and Actuarians joined in. Slim planned to stay for a while yet, being Head Honcho kept him away from Middletonia for years on end. Joss deserved some time with her Middletonian family. He also knew she wanted to spend more time with a certain young alchemist.

A hand settled over his. His heart fluttered when he looked into Swanhilda's gray eyes. She smiled. "I would guess Joss will have another boy to teach how to ride and rope and fight."

"Reckon you're right." Slim drained his goblet. A servant came over to fill it. When the man was done Slim took the pitcher and filled a cup for the servant. After the man left he shifted his attention back to his daughter. "Wonder how it'll turn out, they're awful young."

Swanhilda watched them. "Whatever happens is for them to decide, and it will be as much her decision as his. She's a Free Rider, as is her father…and as our children will be."

The Head Honcho almost dropped his goblet. "Swannie, are you?"

She laughed. "Not yet, but the timing is most favorable tonight."

His moustache twitched. "Swannie, I know my bow still twangs, but…"

"Funny," Swanhilda spoke with her eyes half closed. "Among my people, the twang of a bow is compared to the sound a woman makes when in the throes of ecstasy."

Slim threw back another drink, mentally cursing the etiquette that forbade them from leaving before the Duelists.

RB!

At the Duelists' table timing was also the topic. Kim sat beside Ronman. Her loser's bowl of soup was heaped with choice meats from his plate. They tore bread, dipped into the rich broth and fed each other.

"I never knew losing could be so satisfying." Kim sighed. She looked over to Ronman's parents. "I wish you could stay longer."

Barbara replied first. "Thank you, but we're both anxious to see Hana. I'm sure my sister's anxious to see us."

RB!

At that moment in Actuaria, a girl child leapt out of a tub and ran giggling through a stone wall. It took a village to catch a child.

RB!

Dean nodded. "Besides, your people won't be sorry to see us go. After all, we did overthrow your father just days after he regained his throne. One day to recover from this and we'll be on our way."

"Middletonia owes you and your people much." Kim said graciously.

"There's only one thing I want." Barbara leaned forward. "Ronnie, how did you know that Kim's armor had that weakness?"

"Yes, Ronnie, how?" the auburn haired Warrior Princess wondered. "Dad checked it before the duel and detected no magic other than the charms he had placed on it."

Ronman leaned back. "Well, I'll admit I watched you, a lot, in it. Not that I didn't watch you when you wore anything else, or that time you were naked."

"We'll get to the naked soon." Kim said slyly. "But how did you know that pushing like that would leave me exposed?"

"Like I said, I watched you a lot." Ronman took in the sight of his love in her simple yet beautiful gown. "You almost fell out of it the time you leaned over me when my saddle slipped. And when you were training the troops at the Summer Palace, troops watched your chest as closely as the demonstrations."

The realization made Kim swallow. "You mean…I was flashing my men?"

"A lot." Ronman nodded. "At first I thought you knew. You've got to admit the distraction was a powerful weapon for you."

"I never knew." She blushed.

"Before the duel I talked with Mrs. Royal P. She told me it was what her outfit was designed to do: give little previews before the big reveal. She could also tease men when she sat at their tables. That armor won her a lot of silver. And you had said yours was a direct copy. So I asked her what would get you out, so to speak."

Green eyes narrowed a bit. "And I bet she made sure my LBH went missing. I can't believe she…"

Moniquity cut Kim off. "Helped free you from you pact? Make it to where you can forget the unicorn and side saddle? Girl, you've got some serious competitive issues. Winning isn't the only thing, love is."

To emphasize the point Felix pulled Moniquity close. WP had to concede RBF's point.

Ruthless stood, first on the ground, then in his chair. He raised his goblet. "But it takes a true Actuarian to calculate the odds and then bend them to his will. To Ronman!"

"To Ronman!" Goblets were drained and refilled.

Ronman toasted next. "And to Kimila; the most bon-diggoty chick to ever wear chain mail!"

"To Kimila!" Again goblets were emptied.

The Warrior Princess gave Ronman the eye. "Did you just compare me to a baby chicken?"

It was the NSTMR to the rescue. "It's an ancient Boulderarian expression for an especially desirable young woman."

_I studied Boulderarian, I think there's a bit more to it than that. We'll deal with it later, Ronnie. _At the moment, though, the word 'desirable' triggered another set of thoughts entirely. Kim turned her empty goblet over and set it on the table. "You were right, Mon."

"Of course I was." The dark beauty replied before she asked. "About what?"

"About Ronman. He's the love of my life, and he was also the death of me."

The blond boy rubbed the back of his neck. "About that, KK, I'm so sorry! I couldn't keep away from that statue…"

"It's all right." The Red Kim turned his empty glass over and set it beside hers. "I think we've had enough of the Feast. If you want to make up for showing me the Great Death, introduce me to the Little One."

For a moment the boy's face was a mask of confusion. "The Little I…oh, sure, KK! The Ronman's all about dealing out the Little Death!"

"I certainly hope so." Kim breathed. But a Princess, even a Warrior one, never forgets her breeding. She stood up and bowed to Ronman's parents. "Please stay as long as you like. It is always a pleasure talking with you."

"I'm sure we'll see more of you later. Actuaria has a way of calling a boy home." Barbara gave her son a hug, they were joined by Dean. The sight made Kim smile.

"Come on, Ronnie. We have to say 'goodnight' to the Dy. Until we leave nobody can."

"I don't remember that from the last time." Ronman said.

"Can't say I'm surprised, you were kind of out of it after that duel, barrel boy." The others at the table bid them goodnight, that is, all except Wade and Joss, who had trouble seeing past each other's eyes.

When the Duelists had left Felix turned back to Moniquity. "I had a dream last night. Maybe you can interpret it for me."

"I'll give it a shot. What do you remember?"

"Well, it involved a little contortion and a lot of nudity."

Moniquity walked her fingers up Felix's arm. "Tell you what. I might need some more detail. Think you could act it out?"

"Y-Yeah!" Ronman's Plunder Buddy nodded rapidly. His voice shook with eagerness. The girl of his acrobatic dreams just smiled.

"Keep your breeches on for another minute. Kim and Ronnie have to leave before we can."

Ronman followed Kimila's lead and bowed to the Royal Table. "Goodnight, Mom, Dad."

Queen Ann walked around the table to hug her daughter and her lover. "Goodnight, Kimmie."

The King hugged her also, holding on with fierce tenderness. "Have a good night's…I mean, enjoy….you know what I mean."

His daughter grinned. "I do and we will. Thanks for everything!'

"Don't worry, Royal Ps, I'll take good care of her."

"We know you will." The King raised his goblet and his voice. "The Duelists are now retiring. The rest of you may stay or leave as you wish."

Blue eyes looked into James' when they sat back down. "I thought they would never leave." Ann whispered.

"Well, a certain reluctance is understandable. As our little girl would say, this is a big."

"It is a big. But reluctance? I don't think she has that any more than her father did." She tilted her head and stuck out her lower lip. "Can we go now? You have some apologizing to do."

The King swept his Queen up in his arms, her dress hid what would have brought stares and ribald jests from the crowd. He carried her through the exit. "Goodnight, everybody!"

With the Duelists and Royal Ps gone, the feast lost a little steam. Slim and Swanhilda soon left, followed by Dean and Barbara and Moniquity and Felix. Wadelin and Joss went for a stroll in the garden before she had to return to her room. Finally Ruthless was alone at his table, soaking his sorrows in ale.

"Once again, pheromones everywhere but here."

A servant had left him a pitcher. He lifted it to his face when something made his whiskers twitch. When he set the ale down he saw a pair of female Naked Saber Tooth Mole Rats on either side of him at the table. Their eyes were solid colors, pink, purple, green and black. The green eyed one spoke.

"Flickerfoot gave us the night off."

Four sets of eyes batted at him. The DDD slid out of their chairs and up to his, delicate paws resting on his massive biceps and shoulders. Their sighs prompted him to look out to no one in particular and smile.

"Abooyah."

RB!

Two young people all but ran up the steps leading to the finest room in the East Tower. They stopped at the door and kissed. Ronman pulled back and ran his fingers through Kim's long red hair.

"Sorry they called the wedding off?" he asked.

Her first answer was another deep kiss. "What do you think? The Dy are right; a Crown Princess has a duty to really know her husband before they marry. I know you can fight, I've seen you lead, and not just warriors in battle. I know you can plan and even be diplomatic. But there's one question left and it's a big,"

"What is it?" he swallowed.

"Can you help me perpetuate the Dynasty?" She looked him up and down. "That would be your duty at some point. Are you up to that? I have a test in mind."

"What sort of test?" he smiled.

"Well, current medical opinion holds that the ability of a man to sire children is directly related to his ability to please the woman in question." She slid her hands up his chest.

Ronman pulled her close. "Really?"

She nodded. "I read it in the latest scroll from the Middletonian Leeches' Guild."

"The Ronman will do his best by his Kimila." The blond boy nodded eagerly. "Have to say, I was looking forward to the whole veil thing."

Kim smiled. _So were the dozen or so Greater Nobility and foreign representatives who'd get to witness the consummation of a Royal Wedding. Actually, I'm glad Mom and Dad did it this way; I want our first time to be way more private than that. _"You'll just have to prove that you're worthy of a veil."

She opened the door. Flowers covered every surface. Scented candles glowed from a dozen brass stands. Even her weapons were wreathed in blossoms. "It's beautiful."

Their smiles faded when they saw the empty sword stand. Someone had decorated it with rare Ghost Lilies: flowers said to grow only where Boulderarians were buried. Kim touched a silver petal.

"If I only knew."

At first she thought the moisture on her hand was one of her tears. Before she could wipe it off it was joined by a dozen, then a score then a hundred other droplets. Kim stood in the midst of a light shower. Flowers revived throughout the room, yet the candles and furniture were untouched. When it finished the Warrior Princess stood laughing, her drenched gown clinging to her body.

Ronman stared in wonder. "Was that…"

"Magnifica." Kim nodded softly. "She spoke to me in the rain. She told me that where there is love death is the sweetest of slumbers and the Underworld a Paradise. And Oliver will love Vivian forever."

The barbarian saluted the sword stand. Next he reached for Kim. "Let's get you out of those wet things."

She almost pulled away when his hand touched her shoulder. _I was going to slip that off myself. _Suddenly she could hear Moniquity's voice insider her head. _Girl, drop the plan and grab the man!_

He crushed her against him, his lips at her throat. For the first time ever Kim followed the lead of someone other than her parents or their agents. Ronman slid her gown off her shoulders and undid the sash at her waist. The dress fell about her feet. Large, strong hands caressed her. They expertly undid her bindings and loincloth. She took off his belt and the breeches fell. In moments both were wearing only sandals. They kicked those off and embraced again. He found her skin deliciously cool; she thought his was wondrously warm.

After another deep kiss Ronman picked Kim up and carried her to the bed. _That was sooo in the plan. _She threw back the flower-strewn covers while he held her. The normal cotton sheets had been replaced by satin.

"Uh-oh." Her quick motion had overbalanced him. They fell onto the bed. This time he was able to twist so that she landed on him in complete safety. Her elbow dug into him. She saw him grimace.

"Ronnie, are you all right?"

In answer he rolled her onto her back and kissed her. He touched her face and said in a husky voice. "I love you, Kimila Possible. By Shrom's steel hand I always will."

"And I love you, Ronman of the Stoppable Clan. By Elisthar's good eye and Magnifica's great heart I always will."

Again she let go, allowing Ronman freedom to explore with hands, lips and tongue. His touch sent shivers down her spine. He trailed kisses down her neck and shoulders. This time it was the Waking, and not the Dream World, where he put his hands upon her firm and round and squeezables. His lips joined his hands and stayed for quite some time before a hand resumed its southward drift.

Kisses now slipped down her ribs and belly. They followed the hand that gently parted her legs. He turned his head from side to side to limber up, and then he started.

Kim arched her back. Tiny sounds issued from her throat. She reached down to touch his hair. Words that would never escape her lips rang out in her mind.

_Thank you, Shegoix, thank you!_

She had lived her life training to command, to control, to rule. And now here she was, allowing another access to her body. He was not dominating her in the slightest, but he was not at all subservient. The boy…no, that was not the term to use for an equal, any more than girl fitted her, this man would stand beside her, an equal in love and war. She would never be alone again.

Ronman could feel her tense, hear her moan. She went rigid, causing him to smile before administering the last few kisses needed. Kim's belly heaved up and down. Her eyes screwed shut while she gasped. Each kiss now made her jerk. For her it seemed to go on forever, yet end far too quickly.

Kim took a deep, delighted breath and opened her eyes. Ronman raised his head and smiled at her. She found she had to giggle at his tousled hair. He began to reposition himself for conquest. At this time her essential Kimilaness took over, she could be passive for only so long.

A soft hand reached up and touched Ronman's arm and pulled him down. She rolled him over, her hair spilling over his face. Now it was her turn to bestow kisses and each one took his breath away. Her every touch was a revelation. His breathing quickened as she explored ever farther down. After a long, lingering kiss she straddled him.

Each held their breath for a moment. Ronman was frozen in an ecstasy of fulfillment. For Kim, there was a moment of discomfort, but that faded when compared to the feeling in her chest. Warmth flooded her. Her heart's blood flowed again. Elisthar had returned it at the moment of union, all save one drop. That drop Elisthar had replaced with a bit from each of the other of her Tears. Their lives all became a part of hers, as her life now touched them. The realization moved Kim deeply.

_Now each Sword Sister will know love through me. _

She reached down and caressed his cheek. He reached up to touch and caress until his hands settled on her hips. They moved in perfect harmony for a time, until the pleasure was almost too much for Ronman. His head falling back on the pillow, he went still, using all of this iron barbarian will not to finish too soon, not until she was ready to 'die' again.

It was more than he had ever dreamed possible. Here was the wild tenderness of Tara, the fierce need of Zita, the caring of Sausage Girl and Bonya's desire to please and be pleased. There was also the skill of both Shegoix and Moniquity, if not the polish. That would come with practice, a lot of practice. Right now Ronman could only hope he could restrain himself for the pleasure of the girl who was fiercely…

_Lying motionless on top of me?_

Kim rested her chin on her hands, which themselves were on Ronman's chest. She turned her head to the side and smiled at his puzzlement. "Something wrong, barbarian?"

"Wrong?" the boy's voice quavered. "Who said anything was wrong? How are you…?"

"Oh, you mean this?" A wicked grin crossed her face. She was not moving, but it sure felt like movement where the essential Ronmanness was concerned. "It's something I picked up."

"Picked up? But you're, were…" his eyes crossed at another wave of pleasurable pressure.

"From a scroll. I found a hidden room in the library. I memorized every scroll, though I can't say I've mastered them. You need a partner for that."

He swallowed and gasped. "You said scrolls? How many?"

Her eyes glowed. "Way more than sixteen."

She continued demonstrating her miraculous skill. Somehow he found the will to reach down and touch her. Both faces now contorted with pleasure. Breathing grew shallow, muscles quivered. The universe seemed to stop for a moment…

"ABOOYAHHHHH!!!!!!!"

The cry echoed though out the Palace, bringing smiles to others. Out of respect they had waited for the Duelists to finish first. Soon other cries rose into the starry night.

RB!

Far away in Actuaria, Kevin the War Leader completed his urgent task: rubbing his dear wife's feet. Tara sighed. Before she could say anything her eyes went silver. Her husband waited anxiously.

"What do you see?" he asked. "Will the nameless threat that has the Seanites nervous emerge from the fog and shadow of Hyperbolia?"

The Seer shook her blond locks.

"Will the Usurper Drakken make another bid for the throne of Middletonia or will he bring his cousin and the Hordes of Flatbush down upon us in vengeance?"

Again his wife gave no audible answer.

"Is the danger from the Far South, the Far East, or even from one of the other Nine Worlds?"

Her continued silence filled him with dread. "Oh, no, Ronman ticked Princess Kimila off, didn't he? I had wanted Darla to meet her father at the Claiming Ceremony."

Laughter spilled from Tara's lips. At first it was hallow, eerie, as though coming from across time itself. Kevin's hand moved toward the sword stand when it changed into the familiar laughter of his beloved. He relaxed.

"What's so funny? What did you see?"

"A mystery." She replied when her eyes returned to their usual blue. "How will they complete all those quests while raising THAT brood?"


	29. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Thus did Ronman restore the jeweled crown of Middletonia to its somewhat wayward King. And, having no further concern, he and his companions sought adventure in distant lands. Many wars and feuds did Ronman fight. (He also attended a few dinner parties, fortunately, Kimila was up on etiquette. She really enjoyed the Actuarian of the Year Feast, especially the fire juggling. A special award was given to her for her role in the fire fighting that followed.) Honor, fear, and desire were heaped upon his name, until at last…**

**Hey, I'm paid by the story.**

THE END

Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney

Conan the Barbarian was created by Robert E. Howard, in addition there are nods to (and jabs at) the Universal Studio movies **Conan the Barbarian** and **Conan the Destroyer**.

And of course, additional dialog comes courtesy of William Goldman's **The Princess** **Bride**, which is endlessly quotable whether you're talking about the book or the movie.

Additional additional dialog by Hillary Clinton.

Old Ancient the Elder's lines were also supplemented by **Star Trek.** Angry Ruthless also received help from the franchise. Dazed Ruthless was assisted by Cartoon Network.

Habeas Alibi's reservations were provided by Douglas Adams who reminds you that if you've already done three impossible things today, why don't you top it off by dinner at Milliway's, the **Restaurant at the End of the Universe**.

This epilogue is not intended to pad the number of reviews, so don't review unless you feel you have to. It is to thank the readers and reviewers. The following reviewers and correspondents merit special attention.

**airwalker999 **Provided the prompt for the perfect line for the first part of Ronman's master plan.

**BlueEyedBrigadier **I was not sure with how I was going to go with Kim at the time, Red Sonja made for a much more compelling plot.

**campy **Thanks for the loaning of Kevin the War Master.

**Isamu **Helped me go 'all the way' with Kim's name, and gave Ann a second stage name.

**King in Yellow **The planned epilogue would work much, much better as a prologue. You always give insights with your compliments.

**MrDrP **Your advice on a couple of sticky points proved invaluable.

And of course, three cheers for the badical beta work of **Brother Bludgeon.**

For those with the constitution, go to **captainkodak1 **homepage on Deviant Art for his rendition of Kim as Red Sonja.

Thanks again,

Mr. Wizard


End file.
